


New Flame

by sunsetmeadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Riding, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, University student Oikawa, Yakuza mentions, businessman iwaizumi, yes there’s an actual plot lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-08-24 12:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16640234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmeadows/pseuds/sunsetmeadows
Summary: Working as a server at a high-end restaurant in Kabukicho means that life isn't always as uninteresting as Oikawa hopes it might be. But the job pays well, his manager is understanding of his university schedule, and Oikawa takes pride in being able to meet some of Japan's most prominent businessmen even if he doesn't really care for what they do.That is, until Iwaizumi Hajime takes an interest in him.





	1. Chapter 1

There are plenty of things Oikawa hates. Like when his roommate uses all of his shampoo without replacing it or even letting him know, when the hot water in his apartment suddenly runs out, when the bus driver at the stop outside his building decides to drive off two minutes early even when he can clearly see Oikawa hustling to make it to the stop on time.

Most of the things Oikawa hates have to do with the area he lives in and where he spends most of his time.

What Oikawa hates the  _most_  is no exception to the rule above.

“Hey, hey, look at that. The pretty boy’s working again tonight.”

Oikawa stiffens at the sound of the voice, but otherwise makes no indication that he’s heard. Working at the Blue Crystal, a high-end restaurant in Kabukicho, the heart of Shinjuku’s red light district, means that Oikawa's used to these kinds of comments. It doesn’t mean he likes to hear them though.

He quickly realizes that he’s the only person in the back alley outside the restaurant other than the two men he can see approaching him from his peripheral vision. Oikawa knows the comment is directed at him but he’s been working here long enough to understand that the best way to come out of these types of situations unscathed is to ignore the comments.

As cynical as it is, he’s gotten accustomed to most of what’s said to him. The taunting sneers about how he’s working a low-level job for people so rich that they can own him, how he should just walk down the street and get a job at the local whore house because it’s much better suited to his looks.

He’s heard just about every crude comment there can be and the sad part is, Oikawa doesn’t even care about them anymore. All he wants is to work his job, pay his rent and go to school.

Despite the job title, he doesn’t make bad money and the hours are convenient for his studies so he doesn’t hate it. He just hates the arrogant people that frequent the posh restaurant.  

“Oh come on, don’t ignore us,” the man yells again. “You know we’re good tippers.”

It’s as good of a threat as any, the underlying meaning not missed by Oikawa:  _if you ignore us, we’ll complain to your boss_.

At the last restaurant Oikawa served at, the comment wouldn’t have bothered him. After all, tipping is not a common custom in Japan.

But at the Blue Crystal, tipping means something entirely different and from the haughty tone these men are speaking in, Oikawa knows it’ll only spell trouble for him even when he’s done nothing wrong.

He can’t afford to get scolded or worse, fired, right now. Not when the new month is coming up and his rent is due. He’s got tuition to pay, school work to focus on, so many other priorities. Two assholes aren’t going to ruin what he’s worked hard to achieve for him in a matter of minutes.

Oikawa drops the trash bag off to the side and wipes his hands against his apron. He begrudgingly turns around to face the two men who have been harassing him. He’s unsurprised when he comes face to face with Kawasaki and his cousin, Watanabe.

They’re frequent customers, often getting drunk on expensive whiskey and bringing their girlfriends along even though they’re married. Oikawa doesn’t know what possesses people to do something like that but they’re rich and powerful and don’t have to care what other people think of them.

 _Clearly_ , he reminds himself when they mistake his eye contact as compliance.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Oikawa levels.

He has to try his hardest not to come off as rude, but he doesn’t think he’s doing a good job of it. The inebriated state that his companions are in works in Oikawa's favour this time around.

“Yeah,” Kawasaki says, “come home with us.”

He’s shameless and Oikawa hates him, hates  _people_  like him. He thinks he can get whatever he wants just because he has money and the way he’s leering at Oikawa tells him that the man is very well aware of his status in society.

“Sorry, but a part of the job is separating business from personal,” Oikawa replies smoothly.

It’s a lie, but it’s as best of a political answer as he’s going to come up with.

“Fuck the job!” Watanabe shouts. “We’ll pay you better,  _treat_  you better,” he offers.

Oikawa sorely doubts both of those statements.

Kawasaki thinks his cousin’s joke is hilarious and they both burst into loud laughter. Oikawa doesn’t find the comment particularly funny. In fact, it makes him feel uncomfortable for the first time that night.

“I have to go back to work,” he says, informing them of his exit.

“Like my cousin said, stay with us,” Kawasaki insists.

He steps in closer, trying to cage Oikawa in against the back wall. To avoid getting pinned with no place to escape, Oikawa sidesteps him, but unfortunately that means bumping in closer to Watanabe.

By no standards is Oikawa weak but he’s also smart and he can realize that there are two burly men in front of him and he’s outnumbered. He can play dirty though, and he’s not above trying. He cares about his job and the good money he’s being paid, but not if the price of that is his dignity.

Why can’t these men just go back to their gold-digging girlfriends who’d kiss their feet for them? He doesn’t quite understand the thrill of the chase, not when the chase  _obviously_  isn’t interested, but that’s just one of the many distinguishing differences between him and the people that eat at the Blue Crystal.

When Oikawa first applied to work at the restaurant, he knew that his application was processed so quickly because of the way he looked. The restaurant itself is nothing but that: a place to eat. But Fujiyama-san, the owner of the establishment, is a businessman and a yakuza boss, and some of his other properties are less than compliant with the law.

Unfortunately, Fujiyama-san attracts a certain type of crowd wherever he goes, including the restaurant.

“I think he likes us,” Watanabe laughs, running a hand up Oikawa's arm.

When Oikawa moves to pull away, he latches on, grip firm against Oikawa's bicep.

The door to the back alley opens up and Oikawa hopes it’ll be Akaashi, one of his co-workers, so that he can escape. These people always hate it when there’s more than one of them—they like to feel powerful so they gang up.

It’s not Akaashi though; it’s just another customer stepping out for a smoke. He makes eye contact with Oikawa, eyes sliding down his arm to where Watanabe’s still gripping him, before he breaks the gaze, reaching into the pocket of his grey slacks for a carton of cigarettes.  

Oikawa doesn’t know why he was hopeful but it stings to know that no one is going to be sticking up for him. It’s fine though; he’s been on his own for long enough to know that this isn’t the end of the road for him, maybe just a bump.

“Come on, Tooru-kun. You wanna come home with us, don’t you? We’ll pay you  _so_  much better than what this place does,” Kawasaki hedges.

“Clearly, he doesn't,” the bystander snorts.

Oikawa wants to yell at him to shut up if he’s going to just stand there and make trouble for him but to his surprise, the man walks forward, lit cigarette held between his lips and a bored look grazing his handsome features.

He’s seen the man before: Iwaizumi Hajime. Oikawa knows he comes in with some of Fujiyama-san’s most prominent partners but he’s not sure if Iwaizumi is actually one of them. He must be though, to be able to dine with them, spend as much money on expensive champagne and caviar as he does.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Watanabe greets, removing his hold on Oikawa in an instant.

There are only three types of people that come to the Blue Crystal: those who Fujiyama-san tolerates, those who Fujiyama-san likes and celebrities. Clearly, Iwaizumi falls into the second category, giving him a leg up on Kawasaki and Watanabe.

“Watanabe,” Iwaizumi greets with a short nod. “You should take your cousin home and teach him some manners. Don’t you know it’s rude to pawn employees, especially from the man who buys half of your product and pays for you to dine here?”

Oikawa wishes he could speak to Kawasaki and Watanabe like that and get away with it. For now though, it’s satisfying enough to see the angry burn on Kawasaki’s face and the embarrassed flush on Watanabe’s.

“Apologies, Iwaizumi-san. It was just a joke but we see that it was in bad taste,” Watanabe says stiffly.

They excuse themselves, though not without muttered grumbling on Kawasaki's part, leaving Oikawa alone with Iwaizumi. He wants to go back inside too – he wasn't lying earlier when he said he had to get back to work because he does – but he’s slightly wary of going back in alone.

The hallway that leads to the kitchen is narrow and intersects with the basement; Oikawa doesn’t want to think about what can go wrong in the few seconds it will take him to be back with familiar people. Watanabe may not try anything but Kawasaki did not look as convinced.

Oikawa looks to Iwaizumi hesitantly but Iwaizumi isn’t in any rush to be alone, or so Oikawa gathers from his lack of reaction. So Oikawa doesn’t feel bad about hanging back.

He’s staring at Oikawa curiously the next time Oikawa catches his eye, taking steady drags of his cigarette.

It’s not cold anymore, July having just begun, but Oikawa feels a shiver run up his spine at the steely gaze of the older man.

“Did I do something wrong?” Iwaizumi asks, finally breaking the silence.

“N-no,” Oikawa shakes his head.

“Then quit staring at me like I did. Unless you did want to go back home with them, in which case, I’ll apologize for misunderstanding,” he bows his head.

Oikawa doesn’t know if he’s mocking him or not but he doesn’t like Iwaizumi's tone of voice. It’s condescending—at least, it’s dismissive.

He barely knows the guy so Oikawa shouldn’t be offended but he is. He’s not the type of person to sell himself like that so easily; he’s got standards and he can’t believe he’s being judged for something he didn’t even do. By a man who probably has fewer morals and has no right to judge in the first place!

“For your information, Iwaizumi-san, I would rather drink piss,” he says angrily.

Iwaizumi laughs and that only riles Oikawa up more. He doesn’t like being looked down on and that’s what it feels like to him. Iwaizumi is his superior; he’s older than him, he’s successful, he’s got the prestige and the power while Oikawa has none. But that doesn’t mean that Oikawa is  _inferior_.

He’s never once been treated like a child by the customers of the Blue Crystal and while that hasn’t been the most positive experience, Oikawa doesn’t know why the opposite irritates him more.

“Good, because they’re assholes,” Iwaizumi says, making Oikawa lose some of his earlier ferocity. “Sounds like you didn’t need my help after all,” he adds, putting out his cigarette against the brick wall.

He throws it to the ground and presses the sole of an expensive, leather shoe against it for good measure. Oikawa cringes at the thought of how much those shoes probably cost and what they’re being used for, but Iwaizumi sort of complimented him so he’s willing to let that go.

“See you around, Oikawa,” he says, bidding him a goodbye.

Oikawa stands silently in the alley for a few minutes before he comes to the realization that he never introduced himself to Iwaizumi. It makes him self-conscious for some reason to know that the other man knows who he is. He wonders what else Iwaizumi knows about him before he realizes he’s wasted enough time dawdling out here and that the manager will notice his absence if he’s gone for much longer.

He’s not lucky enough to be able to slip back into his job without getting an earful. Nakamura, the server who was supposed to cover his side of the room during his break, rats him out with a sneer. The restaurant manager likes him, but even if he does he’s got to scold Oikawa for his delay.

“Want me to superglue Nakamura’s locker shut?” Akaashi asks at the end of the night.

“You know he’ll cry about it until he gets the person who did it in trouble,” Oikawa remarks.

Nakamura is standing two feet away from them at his own locker, pulling out his belongings as hastily as he can.

“I wonder why he’s still around,” Akaashi says loudly.

Nakamura slams the door of his locker hard, sending both Oikawa and Akaashi a furious glare before he grabs his bag and storms out.

It’s satisfying enough to see him riled up, though Oikawa does feel a little guilty. He knows that Nakamura only works here because his mother attends to Fujiyama-san. It’s no secret that Nakamura is the boss’s illegitimate son, but he gets treated as just that, if not worse and he’s bitter about it.

Oikawa supposes he would be too if his father made him wait on people who treated him like shit, but then again, his own father left him with all his gambling debt when he died so Oikawa doesn’t have much sympathy for Nakamura. Especially when he’s such an asshole to people around him.

“We probably shouldn’t tease him so much,” Oikawa says.

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “You say that but you don’t truly mean it.”

“Eh, you got me there,” Oikawa admits. “Thanks for sticking up for me though,” he smiles.

“No problem, I know you’d have done the same for me,” Akaashi says seriously. “I’m heading out by the way, and you should too. We’ve got an early lecture tomorrow morning and you don’t want to miss your bus and have to walk like last time. The trains have already stopped running,” Akaashi reminds.

“I will,” Oikawa promises.

Akaashi doesn’t look like he believes him but he shoots Oikawa a disapproving nod before he leaves him be.

Oikawa's known Akaashi since second year; they’re in their fourth now, but it was only last year that Akaashi found out that Oikawa was in a bad situation, financially, and offered to get him a job at his workplace.

At the time, Oikawa was working part-time at a coffee shop and a small Italian bistro and he had assumed he would have to keep one of the two along with the new job if Akaashi managed to help him out.

But on top of being able to work with a good friend, Oikawa was given enough hours at the Blue Crystal that he could quit both his other jobs.

He doesn’t have the time for anything more and having one part-time job that pays the same as two does is more than a blessing.

His phone goes off inside his pant pocket, distracting him from his thoughts.

**Akaashi**  
>> GO. HOME.

Oikawa chuckles at his friend’s persistence but does get a move on. He changes out of his uniform, grabs his backpack and keys, and bids the remaining staff a goodbye.

The bus he needs to take luckily stops only a block away from the Blue Crystal so the walk isn’t long and he’s still early, according to the transit app on his phone. Oikawa's in a surprisingly good mood given the strange way his night had played out but just as he thinks that, his luck wilts.

He can see the bus pulling away from the stop just as he reaches the crosswalk. It’s not his turn to cross yet but there are no cars coming so Oikawa jaywalks across the road only for the bus driver to drive off anyway.

“Well fuck you too!” Oikawa yells, frustrated.

He kicks the metal pole with the bus sign hanging off of it but it’s hard and he ends up stubbing his toe instead, a numbing pain shooting up his leg.

“This stupid, fucking pole and the stupid, fucking bus driver,” he hisses. “I hope your ass breaks out in boils and you can’t even sit on your high and mighty seat and have to quit your job!”

He groans, frustrated, and throws his hands up towards the sky. He can’t even complain to Akaashi right now because he’ll just tell him he did this to himself  _even though_  Oikawa was early. Maybe by only a minute but he was still early and there’s a schedule for a reason.

“That’s a creative insult.”

Oikawa snaps his head back to the bus stop, cracking it accidentally in the process. There’s a black, Mercedes-Benz S-Class pulled up to where the bus should be. Oikawa gawks at the sight, flushing even harder when he notices it’s Iwaizumi behind the wheel, left hand leaning across the rolled down window, neck craned to get a look at Oikawa.

He’s sporting an amused grin, like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing—what he just  _heard_.

“Shut up!” Oikawa yells, clamping a hand to his mouth in embarrassment as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry!” he mumbles apologetically.

“You miss your bus or something?” Iwaizumi asks, ignoring his insult and his apology.

Oikawa narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Are you stalking me?”

“No,” Iwaizumi laughs.

Oikawa doesn’t think there’s anything to laugh at; it was a genuine question. He doesn’t know why but Iwaizumi doesn’t make him uncomfortable. Still, this isn’t normal and he’s slightly on edge. The anticipation of having to walk home now for an hour doesn’t make him feel any better.

Kabukicho isn’t the safest place to walk through at this time of the night. The loud shouting, the herds of people, the flashing lights. There are too many distractions, too many places to get lost.

Oikawa's pretty familiar with the neighbourhood but that doesn’t mean he wants to take a walk through it.

“What do you want?” Oikawa asks, folding his arms over his chest.

He’s sorely underdressed compared to Iwaizumi, in a black t-shirt and jeans. Even through just the rolled down window Oikawa can see his perfectly cinched blue button up and heavy gold Rolex, the matching grey jacket to his slacks thrown over the passenger seat.

Iwaizumi's driving a European model so the driver’s side is on the left, which places him in a greater proximity to Oikawa than under normal circumstances. Right now, Oikawa thinks he could use that little bit of distance.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Iwaizumi says honestly.

“ _Why_?” Oikawa demands.

People like him don’t just want to give people like Oikawa things without expecting that the favour is repaid. He’s reminded of his earlier run-in with Kawasaki and Watanabe and Oikawa can’t help but think that Iwaizumi might have only stepped in because he had his own ulterior motives.

Oikawa wants to believe he’s not a terrible guy but then again, he owns a construction company, which is a pretty corrupt business on its own and he’s friends with Fujiyama-san, a known yakuza boss, so he’s not really sure what’s real and what’s fake.

“Because I’d rather see you get home safe. Come on, I’m not going to lock you in or anything,” he jokes.

At least, Oikawa hopes he’s joking.

The sound of a glass bottle shattering nearby makes up Oikawa's mind for him. He prays to whatever gods are out there that he’s making the right decision before he slips his backpack off his shoulders and slides into the passenger seat of Iwaizumi's car.

It’s nice –  _expensive_  – and the leather interior speaks volumes about its price. The way it feels against his exposed arms says just as much.

Oikawa has to resist the urge to groan because yes, he may look like he’s never owned anything this fancy but he’ll be damned if he shows it.

Iwaizumi throws his suit jacket into the backseat along with a few other bags in the back. Oikawa curiously tries to see what’s inside them but it’s dark and the bags are black so he doesn’t get anywhere.

“Where do you live?” Iwaizumi asks, bringing Oikawa's attention back to the front.

He tells Iwaizumi his address and the other man puts it into his GPS. The drive is filled with awkward conversation about how long Oikawa's been working at the Blue Crystal, where he’s studying, what he’s studying, until finally the drive turns silent.

Oikawa answers the questions curtly, not because he’s trying to be rude but because this is new and feels very foreign. Iwaizumi is nice but that doesn’t mean that Oikawa can’t be wary—that he  _shouldn’t_  be wary.

The reactions he gets from Iwaizumi are polite but detached. It’s like he’s only asking because he has to and not because he wants to.

Under normal circumstances, Oikawa would fight it but he is getting a ride from the man and so he’s somewhat grateful. He fiddles with the zipper on his backpack, foot tapping against the mat on the floor to pass the time. He wants to turn on the radio but it’s not his car and it would probably be overstepping.

Driving in Tokyo isn’t great but Iwaizumi's a good driver and they make it to Oikawa's apartment building in fifteen minutes.

Oikawa doesn’t know why but when Iwaizumi stares at the shabby condition of the three-story building he calls home, he suddenly feels self-conscious. He’s never felt the need to hide where he lives before but he feels inadequate under Iwaizumi’s scrutinizing gaze and he doesn’t even really know the man.

“This is where you live?” he asks.

There’s no judgement behind his words, just concern. Oikawa doesn’t know which is worse, to be honest.

“Is that a problem?” Oikawa asks stiffly.

“It should be. For  _you_ ,” Iwaizumi states. “You’re a student, don’t you need a good environment to focus on your studies? This place doesn’t even look like it has running water.”

It does. Most of the time. But Oikawa won’t admit that. He’s been living here for three and a half years and he’s been doing just fine. The insinuation that Oikawa’s studies may be affected bothers him more than Iwaizumi insulting his place of residence.

He doubts either of those two comments were intentional but Oikawa’s annoyed at the kind of privileged life Iwaizumi must have had to just say what he wants like that.

“Oh please do continue to insult my home a little more. How about you take a jab at my clothes too? Sorry, did I get my poor people germs all over your car? I’ll be sure to clean that up personally since I can’t afford to hire a service to do it,” he sneers.

Iwaizumi flushes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant,” Oikawa says bitterly. “Thanks for the ride. I’m home safe so don’t stay out here for too long in case something happens to your car and you decide it’s my fault.”

He knows that’s going far and Iwaizumi’s been pretty easygoing all night so Oikawa’s pushing it but he can’t help that he’s annoyed.

Iwaizumi does anger at his comment, grabbing Oikawa’s wrist to stop him from leaving. The look of panic that crosses Oikawa’s face sobers him up and he lets go immediately. He doesn’t say anything; no argument, no insult, no nothing.

Oikawa doesn’t know why he feels disappointed when this is what he wanted. He opens the car door and exits the vehicle with an uncomfortably knotted stomach.

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi shouts just as he gets on the path leading from the road to the front door of his building.

He turns back to find Iwaizumi’s gotten out of his car and is waiting expectantly for him so Oikawa walks back to meet him halfway.

“Have a good night,” Iwaizumi says awkwardly.

“You too, Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa laughs, despite himself.  

Iwaizumi loses his stiffness after seeing the look on Oikawa’s face, goofy grin making a brief appearance. For some reason, it makes Oikawa feel better to see him relax.

It doesn’t get rid of the fact that they’re from different worlds but Oikawa thinks Iwaizumi is a decent guy and that out of all the patrons who frequent the Blue Crystal, Oikawa certainly likes him the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't mentioned until the second chapter but just for clarification, Oikawa is 21 (turning 22) and Iwaizumi is 33 in this fic.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the first weekend in over two months that Oikawa has off. If he’s not working at the Blue Crystal, he’s studying for school. Being a computer science major doesn’t come easy but Oikawa likes the work and he knows it’ll bring him some stability in life when he graduates.

It’s the end of July and the summer break brings with it some unexpected free time. While he’s been working more hours than usual because of the time off from school, the restaurant manager has given him this weekend off as a sort of belated birthday present.

He knows he has Akaashi to thank for the tip and although his friend already threw him a birthday party at his apartment on the actual day of his birthday, the fact that he reminded their manager about Oikawa’s birthday and the fact that their manager cared enough to give in both make Oikawa happy.

The whole weekend is ahead of him and by some miracle, Oikawa’s roommate is also out of town so he can do whatever he pleases. So far, his plans consist of binge-watching  _Black Mirror_  on Netflix and not moving from the couch.

But his fridge is empty and his snacks are at an ultimate low level, which is how Oikawa finds himself in the grocery store down the street at 11 am on a Saturday morning.

It’s not exactly early and he is a morning person at any rate, but having to go grocery shopping on his day off makes his movements slow, more sluggish.

The grocery store is crowded, as expected for a weekend morning, and Oikawa moves mechanically, grabbing his favourite snacks. He gets practically the same thing every time: cheddar cheese popcorn, chocolate biscuits, cola-flavoured gummies.

By the end of the run, he realizes his cart is full of only junk food and he can’t possibly eat only that for the rest of the week. He contemplates putting some of his snacks back but he’s been working hard and saving money plus it was his birthday last week so he feels entitled to buy something for himself.

He knows he’ll probably regret it when he sees the grocery bill but for the time being, Oikawa chooses to ignore his responsibilities.

It’s when he’s sifting through rice selection for his favourite brand that he feels an unmistakable gaze on the back of his head. He’s both unsurprised and completely mortified when he stands up straight, then turns around, and Iwaizumi is staring right at him.

He’s standing a few feet away, leaning against a row of boxed rice meals with his arms crossed over his chest, head tilted thoughtfully in Oikawa’s direction. He’s wearing casual clothes this time: a maroon long sleeved shirt and beige chinos, a pair of aviators perched neatly on top of his head. He looks just as good as he did when wearing a suit.

Oikawa feels sort of exposed in his presence – he had been bending down only a few moments ago – but Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to his ass, or so Oikawa concludes from the unreadable expression on his face.

It’s both a relief and an insult because Oikawa knows for a fact that he’s got a great behind. But then again, Iwaizumi is probably used to fondling girls so Oikawa can’t blame him for looking bored.

What he  _can_  blame him for is being a stalking weirdo, even though he hasn’t talked to the man in the three and half weeks since he dropped Oikawa home.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa says thinly, “I don’t know why you think it’s appropriate to stare at strangers but it isn’t.”

“Are we really strangers if you know my name?” Iwaizumi asks without missing a beat.

“Yes,” Oikawa says curtly. “What are you doing here anyway? I didn’t know you ventured to this part of town.”

Iwaizumi grins victoriously at him. Oikawa doesn’t know why he looks so happy when all he did was ask him why he was at this particular store. He pushes himself off the shelf he was leaning on and walks over to stand next to Oikawa.

“This is the only grocery store I know of that sells these,” he holds up a bag of bonito flakes.

“You came all the way to this side of town to buy  _bonito flakes_?” Oikawa asks skeptically. “I can guarantee you that you can find them anywhere.”

“Maybe, but not this brand,” Iwaizumi says, pointing to a logo at the top of the bag.

“That’s weird,” Oikawa says flatly.

“Says the guy who spent ten minutes looking for a specific brand of rice,” Iwaizumi points out.

Oikawa’s jaw drops in surprise. “You were staring for that long?” he demands. “And rice is different from bonito flakes! I was being picky about the base of  _many_  main dishes while you were just being stubborn over something that barely has any taste,” he adds.

“I’d beg to differ. Have you ever had okonomiyaki without bonito flakes?” Iwaizumi scoffs.

“Whatever,” Oikawa says stubbornly.

He can stand here and argue about something trivial or he can go home and get his relaxing weekend started. Oikawa chooses the latter. He grabs his bag of rice and puts it into his basket with more force than is necessary, glaring at Iwaizumi the entire time just daring him to make a comment.

Iwaizumi doesn’t but he still manages to make Oikawa lose his bearings when he bends down and picks up the basket full of groceries for him. He places his own bag of bonito flakes on top of the rice and continues down the aisle like he hasn’t done anything strange.

“You need anything else or are you ready to pay?” he turns back to ask Oikawa. 

Oikawa’s so taken aback he simply nods and goes along with the strange encounter that just doesn’t seem to want to end.

Turns out, when Iwaizumi asked Oikawa if he was ready to pay, what he really meant was that  _he’d_  pay.

He dumps the contents of Oikawa’s basket on the conveyor belt, picking up the box of chocolate biscuits with a snort.

“What are you, an old man?” he asks, referring to Oikawa’s tastes.

“Says the real old man,” Oikawa bites back.

Iwaizumi is not really that old. He’s thirty-three, according to his profile on his company’s website. Oikawa may or may not have looked him up after he dropped Oikawa home earlier that month. And he doesn’t look his age either, which makes it easy for Oikawa to forget just who he’s dealing with.

He raises his eyebrows at Oikawa, daring him to repeat the comment louder though by the look on his face, Oikawa doesn’t need to for Iwaizumi to have heard what he said.

“That’ll be ¥3600,” the cashier says, bring Oikawa’s attention back to the front.

He notices that she’s cashed out the bonito flakes too but he’s almost afraid to tell her those aren’t his because of the potential embarrassment. He’s a little annoyed with Iwaizumi but the annoyance lasts for two seconds at best because Iwaizumi pulls out his wallet and hands over a ¥10,000 note.

Oikawa has a feeling that is the only value of money he has in his wallet but he bites back his judgement because his grocery bill did just get paid for.

He thinks about how he could have picked up a few more things he needed but didn’t think he could afford for the time being but he immediately flushes at the selfishness of the thought.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks.

He’s split the grocery bags between both hands and is currently waiting for Oikawa at the end of the cash register. There’s a line behind him, which is the only reason Oikawa follows without making a fuss.

At least until they’re outside.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Oikawa states, pointing to his groceries.

“It’s not a big deal,” Iwaizumi waves off.

“It is though, to me. I’d like my bags back please,” he says stiffly.

Iwaizumi stops and turns to stare at Oikawa. “How are you getting home?” he asks, ignoring Oikawa’s complaints.

“Why does it matter? I asked for my bags,” Oikawa reminds.

“You’re walking then,” Iwaizumi concludes. “I drove here. Let me at least give you a ride back.”

Oikawa has already accepted two favours from Iwaizumi and he doesn’t think he can accept any more—knows he  _shouldn’t_ accept any more.

“Please Iwaizumi-san, I just want to go home,” he says tiredly.

Iwaizumi furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Isn’t that what I just offered to help you with?” he asks, genuinely confused.

Maybe it’s his concern or maybe it’s the fact that he really doesn’t see what’s wrong with the situation but Oikawa gets the feeling that Iwaizumi doesn’t have any ulterior motives.

He sighs, folding his arms over his chest defensively before he starts walking towards the parking lot. He hopes Iwaizumi will take the hint and follow because Oikawa doesn’t know where his car. Thankfully he does, walking half a step in front of Oikawa to lead the way.

Oikawa’s on the lookout for his Mercedes but Iwaizumi stops in front of a dark grey Lexus SUV instead.

“How many cars do you have?” Oikawa blurts out.

“Four,” Iwaizumi answers seriously. “Five if you count the one my driver exclusively uses.”

“You have a  _driver_?” Oikawa gapes.

“Yes, but I prefer to drive myself around.”

 _Then what’s the point in hiring a driver_ , Oikawa almost asks.

He supposes Iwaizumi has to use his money somehow. He wonders where he can get an easy job like that of his driver who doesn’t even have to do much driving.

Iwaizumi unlocks the car and Oikawa gets into the passenger seat while Iwaizumi puts the grocery bags in the trunk.

When he gets in, he doesn’t ask Oikawa for his address but starts driving. It’s both unnerving and impressive that he remembers. Oikawa’s apartment building is a fifteen-minute walk from the grocery store so he doesn’t expect the drive to be any more than five.

This time, Oikawa isn’t hesitant about what he can and can’t touch in Iwaizumi’s car. His hand reaches for the buttons of the radio, finding a station he likes that plays upbeat music. Iwaizumi grunts his disapproval but otherwise doesn’t comment. Oikawa smiles to himself, resisting the urge to bop his head along with the tune lest he pushes his luck.

As nice as the car rides are, Oikawa doesn’t want to get used to them so he thinks it’ll work out in his favour in the chance that Iwaizumi  _does_  tell him off for touching his stuff. Oikawa's never owned a car and he doesn’t think he will; it’s an inconvenience living in Tokyo and truth be told, Oikawa doesn’t plan on leaving the city either. Still, Iwaizumi's approval puts him at ease.

“Do you really know how to cook okonomiyaki?” Oikawa asks curiously, staring at Iwaizumi's profile as he drives.

He’s never been good at staying silent, and besides, if Iwaizumi is able to look at him when Oikawa's back is turned then he’s definitely allowed to stare while holding a conversation.

“You surprised?” Iwaizumi smiles.

“Yes,” Oikawa nods. “I thought you’d get your cook to do it for you,” he shrugs. 

“I’m not entirely dependent on my staff,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Obviously,” Oikawa agrees sarcastically, gesturing to the car they’re in.

He thinks he may have been a little too mean – too judgmental – but Iwaizumi laughs good-naturedly and Oikawa relaxes at the sound.

His laugh is nice: deep and calming just like his voice. It fits with the rest of him. Between his straight nose, chiseled jaw, impeccable style, and unbelievable biceps, Iwaizumi is a very attractive man. He smells nice too, which is an added bonus.

Too bad he’s off limits and probably straight.

Oikawa doesn’t know why he’s sad about the thought because he shouldn’t be but it’s nice to imagine what the older man might do to him if he wasn’t.

“What are you thinking about it?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Nothing!” Oikawa says too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Iwaizumi hums disbelievingly.

His eyes find Oikawa’s in the rear-view mirror and Oikawa flushes at the contact. He has such a commanding stare that it puts Oikawa on edge and turns him on all at the same time.

Oikawa sits quietly the rest of the way home, ankles crossed, in fear that he’ll let something embarrassing slip. Iwaizumi doesn’t make a move to keep conversation going and Oikawa is grateful.

He’s seen the older man around at the restaurant since that night a few weeks ago but Iwaizumi hasn’t made any effort to talk to Oikawa, nor has Oikawa been given the chance to talk to him. Most of the time, Oikawa doesn’t even serve in the section that Iwaizumi sits in because there are servers with more seniority who get that privilege.

It’s no different from before so if anything, the one time Iwaizumi did talk to him was out of character. Though Oikawa swears Iwaizumi's gaze lingers on him a little more, even when he’s not serving his section but he can’t prove it because the man’s eyes are nowhere on him when he tries to catch him in the act.

At least, they hadn’t been until today but Oikawa has a feeling that has more to do with the setting and the lack of his peers in the vicinity. It doesn’t bother Oikawa; it’s how the hierarchy of the world decided to play out and as long as Oikawa's left to his own devices, he’s comfortable where he is.

This time when Iwaizumi stops in front of Oikawa’s apartment building, a wary look doesn’t cross his face.

“Are you working this weekend?” he asks as Oikawa unbuckles his seatbelt.

“No, I have it off. It was my birthday last week but we were really busy so my manager gave me this weekend off instead,” Oikawa explains.

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-two,” Oikawa says, somewhat proudly.

He think this will be the last year that he’s actually happy about turning a year older just because it’s also his last year in school. When he graduates and he’s (hopefully) a working adult, Oikawa doesn’t want to be reminded of the time passing by. School is an escape from responsibilities even if it’s not easy or cheap.

“It must be nice for you to get a break from work and school,” Iwaizumi acknowledges.

“It is,” Oikawa agrees. “Thank you for the ride, and for paying for the groceries,” he says unsurely. “I hope you enjoy cooking your okonomiyaki.”

“No problem,” Iwaizumi replies, then a little tentatively he asks, “You want to try some?”

“What?” Oikawa chuckles. “You’re going to drive all the way back here just so I can try your cooking?” he teases.

“No,” Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Come back and try it for yourself.”

Oikawa can’t tell if it’s a joke but it has to be, right? The way Iwaizumi is staring expectantly at him as he awaits a response says the opposite.

“What?” Oikawa asks cautiously, fingers twitching against the door handle.

He wants to leave but he’s frozen in his seat. The silence in the car leaves the air heavy. Iwaizumi's perceived lack of interest makes Oikawa question what his motives really are, though he doesn’t seem to have  _any_ , which makes Oikawa even more suspicious.

The correct thing to do is to politely decline the offer so as to not offend Iwaizumi and be on his way. After all, the chances of Oikawa running into him after today outside the Blue Crystal are slim. He’ll be more wary of going to the grocery store but how often does Iwaizumi frequent grocery stores, anyway? Oikawa himself hates the errand.

“Okay,” he says despite himself.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi asks, giving Oikawa a second chance to change his answer.

He finds himself agreeing anyway, his curiosity winning out against his better judgement. Iwaizumi nods, the edge of his lips quirking up into a small smile.

Oikawa doesn’t understand why a powerful businessman like Iwaizumi wants to have anything to do with Oikawa but he’s already concluded that the older man probably isn’t dangerous so Oikawa goes along with it. He  _does_  want to see if Iwaizumi can cook, if only because Oikawa hates doing it himself and the promise of a free lunch is a good deal.

Iwaizumi lives in Minato, the high-rise buildings and fancy offices marking it distinctively. Oikawa only ventures around Minato when he has classes because his school is close by but never to buy anything because it’s ridiculously expensive. He’s also never been to the residential side of the ward.

They drive to the centre of the city towards a tall building with shiny, navy glass covering the outside. Oikawa resists the urge to peer out the window and stare because of course Iwaizumi lives in one of the most expensive residences in Tokyo.

They studied this building in his design class, so Oikawa knows  _exactly_  what it takes to live in a place this luxurious but he’s still blown away by the splendour even just from the outside.

“I’m surprised you don’t live in a building your company owns,” Oikawa chuckles.

“I’m an investor in this one,” Iwaizumi says seriously, the joke lost on him.

Oikawa drops any further attempt to tease the other man.

Iwaizumi presses a button to let them into the garage and drives off past the rows of cars parked neatly on the lower level parking garage towards an elevator.

He has his own personal garage where there are exactly five cars, including the one they are currently sitting in. Oikawa isn’t even surprised; he just silently resigns himself to experiencing sights he will probably never see again in his life as Iwaizumi grabs the groceries and leads him out of the car and towards a separate elevator that goes up to his apartment on the top floor.

If Oikawa thinks Iwaizumi's cars and clothes are nice, it’s nothing compared to his residence. Unsurprisingly, he lives in the penthouse and the décor does not disappoint.

There are cream coloured walls covered in dark wood, panels of glass running through the rooms to act as barriers. They do the job of separating the rooms and making the already spacious residence look even larger. His floors are hardwood and run along the entirety of the first floor, continuing up a set of stairs to the second. The rooms are bright and well lit, only the accent pieces dark amongst the sea of beige and cream and patches of blue.

There are so many places to look Oikawa doesn’t know what to focus on first, but despite it all, his eyes keep coming back to the floor-to-ceiling glass window wall that leads to a rooftop patio outside.  

No wonder Iwaizumi didn’t think much of where Oikawa lived. Oikawa wouldn’t either if he was used to this kind of luxury. It’s unfair really how much money one person can have but Oikawa can’t be bitter with Iwaizumi even if he wants to be because he hasn’t genuinely flaunted his status in front of Oikawa.

Everything Iwaizumi’s done that puts a financial difference between them has been accidental or at least, it’s been done in passing.

Oikawa sighs to himself but takes the opportunity to peer around and imagine what owning a house like this might be like.

Fat chance that it will actually happen for him but he does aspire to develop video games when he graduates so maybe it will if he gets famous and can have his own company. Oikawa’s not above dreaming at any rate.

Iwaizumi offers Oikawa a pair of slippers then moves to the kitchen while Oikawa is still off gazing at the grandeur of the first floor. He pads after Iwaizumi a few seconds late.

“I’ll take these when I drop you off,” Iwaizumi points to Oikawa's groceries that he’s placed on top of the bar counter.

“Okay,” Oikawa nods.

“You want to help or do you want to look around?” Iwaizumi asks, noticing the way Oikawa's eyes fidget around the room.

Oikawa flushes at the comment. It isn’t meant to be rude but he’s self-conscious. He resists the urge to tug at his worn-out black t-shirt that has the words ‘I WANT TO BELIEVE’ written in block letters across his chest.

He’s not usually affected by his appearance but he’s standing out and Oikawa doesn’t like being the one thing that doesn’t fit in a crowd.

“Uh, I’ll look around if that’s okay,” Oikawa makes up his mind.

Iwaizumi nods and turns away from him, giving Oikawa the freedom to roam around the apartment. It’s both a relief to step away from the man’s steely presence and unnerving to have so much liberty.

Oikawa doesn’t know if Iwaizumi just trusts him a lot or he doesn’t think Oikawa's stupid enough to steal from him but one thing is for certain: there are plenty of things that Oikawa can take if he so desires.

He doesn't though. Both because they’re not his and because he’s not an idiot to cross someone like Iwaizumi with the connections that he has. Oikawa is not entirely certain Iwaizumi  _isn’t_  a member of the yakuza so he roams around the rooms with slightest bit of trepidation.

Oikawa's in awe of the walk-in closet he finds, filled to the brim with watches, belts, dress-shirts, ties, multiple rows of shoes and perfectly tailored suits. Since Iwaizumi gave him permission to look around, Oikawa doesn’t feel bad about pulling open the drawers and admiring. He doesn’t touch anything beyond the drawers though, even if he pulls open the panel with the watches so he can get a better look.

He  _feels_  rich just standing in the room. The master bedroom is the most glamorous of them all because of the sheer value of stuff that’s in there but the other rooms are just as well furnished.

By the time Oikawa makes it back downstairs to the kitchen he can smell the food cooking. Iwaizumi has the kitchen fan on so he doesn’t turn around to greet Oikawa until Oikawa calls out to him.

“It’s a nice place,” he says conversationally.

Most things are nice compared to his apartment though.

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi chuckles, glancing at Oikawa over his shoulder.

He pulls the pan off the stove and plates it, showing off the bag of bonito flakes he was so obsessed with to Oikawa and sprinkling it over top the okonomiyaki with a triumphant grin.

Oikawa notices that Iwaizumi’s pulled his sleeves up to cook and he’s briefly distracted by the sight of his toned forearms.

There’s an already cooked dish to the side, but Iwaizumi offers Oikawa the warmer one, taking both to the dining table. Oikawa thanks him for the food and nervously looks around, expecting someone else to turn up and tell him to leave but no one does so he digs in.

“What do you think?” Iwaizumi asks after a few bites are eaten in silence.

“It’s good,” Oikawa compliments. “I guess you really can cook,” he laughs.

“Of course I can. I don’t lie,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa figures there is more than one intention behind his words but he’s too engrossed in Iwaizumi's ability to cook to care to decipher his cryptic sentence. 

“It’s a shame,” Oikawa sighs.

“What is?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Well two things actually. The first is that I’m sure you hire a cook only for you to do their job for them and the second is that there aren’t any people around to appreciate your uncharacteristic skill,” Oikawa remarks.

Iwaizumi lets out a loud laugh. “My cook gets good use of my kitchen, I can assure you that. The weekends are just a downtime. I’m not a monster, I let my staff have the day off,” he says pointedly.

“Hmm,” Oikawa says, fiddling with the chopsticks in his hand, “even your girlfriend?” he asks unsubtly.

He doesn’t know why he asked that:  _let his girlfriend have the weekend off_. But it’s too late to take it back now even if Oikawa’s face is flushed pink.

The lack of female clothing in Iwaizumi's rooms is a dead giveaway that he doesn’t have a girlfriend but Oikawa's curious to know  _why_. By all standards, Iwaizumi Hajime is a catch and he must have women lining up in spades to be his partner.

Maybe he’s just a playboy; after all, Oikawa's seen him with plenty of different women at the Blue Crystal before, though he hasn’t exactly looked intimate with them. But Oikawa doesn’t know Iwaizumi's mannerisms to make that kind of a conclusion. He wants to though, and that’s a thought that catches him off-guard.

“I don’t have one,” Iwaizumi says bluntly.

“Why not?” Oikawa blurts out before he can stop himself.

Iwaizumi's lips twitch in amusement. He’s not offended, which comes as a relief for Oikawa.

“Don’t want one. I’m not interested in women,” he shrugs off.

Oikawa's not sure if he means he’s not interested in dating women right now or that he’s not interested in women  _at all_. A part of him is rooting for the latter but he doesn’t think either of those options will affect him. Still, it would be humbling to know that Iwaizumi, as a person, isn’t so different from Oikawa after all.

“That sucks. I’m sure Iwaizumi-san would be a great partner,” Oikawa laments.

He swears the tips of Iwaizumi's ears turn red but the flush is gone almost as soon as it appears.

They eat the rest of their food in more or less silence. The soft thud of the wooden chopsticks against the ceramic plates is as loud as it gets.

Even before Oikawa spoke to Iwaizumi he knew that the businessman was a silent person, choosing not to talk much. Oikawa can’t remember him being loud or rowdy or even rude all the times that he’s served him at the restaurant before. It comes as no surprise then that he’s the same man of few words at home. In fact, it’s reassuring in a way that he really is who he portrays himself to be.

Oikawa offers to wash the dishes but Iwaizumi just takes them from him and places them in the dishwasher with a shake of his head. It’s strange to see such a prominent figure in the Tokyo business market do simple house chores. Oikawa feels like he’s invading the man’s space but he reminds himself that he’s an invited guest.

Iwaizumi doesn’t tell him to leave or even offer to drive him home when he’s done washing up in the kitchen. Instead, he asks Oikawa if he’d like a proper tour of the house like they’re  _friends_  or something.

Oikawa doesn’t know why he humours Iwaizumi—doesn’t know why Iwaizumi is humouring  _him_. But it is sort of like having a friend, even if Oikawa can’t stop staring at the strong lines of Iwaizumi's back when he walks in front of him, leading Oikawa from room to room.

The longer he spends in Iwaizumi's company, the more dangerous his thoughts become, especially when Iwaizumi loosens up and starts to talk more. He tells Oikawa about the history behind some of his furniture, like the couch that is apparently a gift from Japan’s Imperial family.

Most of the history is lost on Oikawa but it’s clear that Iwaizumi finds it interesting. He sounds almost  _normal_  when he’s listing off facts about the time period of the artifacts that adorn the showcase in his study on the second floor.

When Iwaizumi steps out onto the patio for a smoke and Oikawa follows him out, the reddish-orange hue of the sky brings about the startling realization that he’s spent over six hours at Iwaizumi's house.

“I should go home,” Oikawa says, tearing his eyes away from Iwaizumi.

He looks unreal with the setting sun drawing a halo around his figure. He’s sitting on one of the patio chair and he’s not even paying attention to Oikawa, eyes focused on the skyline. He looks like he’s deep in thought until Oikawa speaks up.

“I’ll drive you home,” Iwaizumi says.

He puts out his cigarette in an ashtray he has set up on the patio table and begins to get up but Oikawa anticipated the response. He comes to stand in front of Iwaizumi and puts a hand out to stop him, indicating for him to stay seated.

“I’ll take the train,” Oikawa insists.

“You’ve got things to carry home. It’ll be easier if I give you a lift,” Iwaizumi argues.

“I’m not that weak,” Oikawa scoffs. “I was an athlete up until my third year of high school and I still go to the gym regularly.”

He feels sort of insulted that Iwaizumi is treating him like he’s fragile. Iwaizumi may be stronger than him but that doesn’t mean that Oikawa is feeble and besides, he  _is_  taller than the older man and he almost uses that fact as a childish argument.

“Believe me, I can tell. That’s not what I meant,” Iwaizumi says.

The comment leaves a tropical burn spreading across Oikawa's cheeks. So Iwaizumi  _was_  staring at his body earlier even if his expression was unreadable. Again, Oikawa is left with the mixed feeling between flattered and offended.

“Iwaizumi-san, what am I doing here?” Oikawa asks honestly.

Iwaizumi stands up and even though Oikawa is taller than him by a few centimetres, the height advantage means nothing when Iwaizumi is staring at him with unflinching resolve.

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asks.

“I mean, we’re not friends, we’re not even associates. Is there something you want from me?” Oikawa demands.

“No,” Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Unless… there’s something you want.”

Oikawa hates that the question is thrown at him, like he’s got any right to make a decision for the both of them. He’s had enough of walking on eggshells around Iwaizumi though so he throws caution to the wind and reaches out to grab Iwaizumi's shirt and closes the distance between them.

Iwaizumi's hands fly to his face with the contact, his fingers placed firmly along the side of Oikawa’s neck, thumb tracing his jaw.

He uses his lips to pry Oikawa's mouth open, the kiss turning more tongue than anything else in a matter of seconds.

Oikawa can taste the nicotine on Iwaizumi's breath but he doesn’t mind it when it’s surrounded by the strong, musky smell that’s inevitably  _Iwaizumi_. Oikawa breathes him in deeply, wraps his arms impossibly tight against his neck, kisses him harder until his jaw is sore and his throat burns for air.

When Oikawa pulls away Iwaizumi is staring at him, familiar stoic expression replaced by a fervent desire. Oikawa traces his teeth over his swollen lips like he can’t just believe what happened and Iwaizumi's thumb comes up to do the same, mouth back on his in an instant.

Iwaizumi’s mouth is hot, his hands absolutely scorching everywhere they touch—over his cheeks, along his jaw, under his shirt where his fingers smooth over his hips.

Oikawa doesn’t know how long they stand there on the patio, tangled in one another’s embrace until finally Oikawa's left totally breathless and has to pull away. He can feel his own dick straining against the front of his jeans but he’s a lot more concerned about what Iwaizumi is going to say to him to do much about his uncomfortable situation.

“Can I drive you home now?” Iwaizumi asks seriously.

Oikawa almost laughs at the ridiculousness of his statement. He just made out with the man and this is  _all_  he has to say?

Somehow, it’s reassuring and he does end up laughing, Iwaizumi's own amusement following shortly after.

“Okay,” he agrees, “but I’m pretty sure I saw an Aston Martin in your collection of cars and I want to go home in that,” Oikawa bargains.

Iwaizumi's quick to agree, stupidly adorable grin gracing his features. It’s strange to talk to him like nothing happened between them but when Iwaizumi drops him off in front of his building and he reaches over and kisses him again once, twice, three times, until Oikawa can’t count what number they’re on, he knows that something  _has_  happened.

He just doesn’t know if it’s ultimately a good thing or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the teasing up till now, but things are about to heat up!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has supported this fic so far! Your comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions have really been a kind surprise to me so thank you again! <3

“What the fuck is  _that_?” Akaashi asks, pointing to Oikawa's neck.

Oikawa looks down at the navy  _Armani_  polo he’s wearing and tugs at the collar bashfully. Akaashi moves aside to let Oikawa into his apartment but the way he’s staring at Oikawa indicates that he isn’t about to halt his interrogation just yet.

“Oh, Iwa-chan—I mean Iwaizumi-san got it for me,” he mumbles awkwardly.

He only wore the new shirt today because the logo isn’t quite noticeable and he’s only hanging out with Akaashi but now he feels like maybe he should have just stuck to his regular clothes.

The shirt was a gift from Iwaizumi; he had somehow taken Oikawa's comment on the fact that his birthday was two weeks ago as an indication to get him a belated present. It was a thoughtful gesture and the shirt fits well  _and_  looks good on him, even if it isn’t his regular style of clothing.

Oikawa feels bad about leaving it hanging in his closet for so long. He’s too embarrassed to wear it in front of Iwaizumi even if the man asks him about it every time he sees Oikawa, which has been just about every day in the past week.

It’s Sunday today, just over one week since Oikawa kissed Iwaizumi for the first time. They’ve seen each other a lot in the seven days since then— _kissed_  a lot more.

When Iwaizumi texted him the following Sunday after asking for Oikawa's number the night before, Oikawa thought the message was going to be disappointing and say something along the lines of how yesterday was a mistake. To his surprise, Iwaizumi asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, which turned into lunch and a movie, then dinner.

Oikawa's plans for a weekend alone were completely overturned by one Iwaizumi Hajime and he wasn’t even upset about it. Especially not when he had Iwaizumi's skilful mouth on his, pulling sounds from him that Oikawa wasn’t even sure he was capable of making.

“Okay well I was talking about that obvious hickey you’ve got there but hold up,  _Iwa-chan_?” Akaashi demands.

Oikawa's hand flies to his neck in embarrassment. “ _Where_?” he hisses.

“Right there,” Akaashi says, poking the underside of Oikawa's jaw.

He feels the sting when Akaashi’s finger lands on the bruise and he inwardly curses Iwaizumi for leaving a mark he can’t even see. Oikawa had carefully covered up what he  _could_  see that morning before he arrived at Akaashi’s to avoid this exact situation. It wasn’t his fault both Iwaizumi and his friend were shorter than him and as a result had the perfect view of the blind spot on his neck.

“You can’t possibly mean the Iwaizumi-san who is Fujiyama-san’s business partner,” Akaashi says dubiously, distracting Oikawa from his blemish.

“Technically, they’re also friends,” Oikawa corrects.

“Oh like  _that_  makes it any better,” Akaashi rolls his eyes. “Spill!”

Oikawa drops his backpack onto the floor of Akaashi’s living room, careful of the laptop inside it, and plops down on the couch. He initially came over so that he and Akaashi could work on a project for their software development course but he can see that currently, homework is the farthest thing from Akaashi’s mind.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Oikawa says stubbornly.

“The new clothes and the hickey on your neck say otherwise,” Akaashi purses his lips. “Is this why he’s been coming to the restaurant every day this week? And is  _he_  the reason why you’ve been late coming back from your breaks?” Akaashi demands. “I covered for you so many times!”

Oikawa doesn’t really know a definitive answer to Akaashi’s first question but he can say with confidence that his friend hits the nail on the head with his second.

The break room at the Blue Crystal is crowded and doesn’t leave much space for privacy. The basement on the other hand houses Fujiyama-san’s personal office and while Oikawa would normally never step foot down there, Iwaizumi can be very convincing. Especially when Oikawa knows that as Fujiyama-san’s friend  _he’s_  allowed there so Oikawa does have a very powerful alibi if he’s caught.

It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel guilty now for being so obvious and keeping Akaashi in the dark.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Akaashi accuses, lips pulled into a frown as Oikawa's flushing face answers his question for him.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to!” Oikawa promises.

“Hnngh, sure you did,” Akaashi dismisses.

Oikawa  _has_  been contemplating what to say to his friend. Akaashi knows all his secrets but Oikawa isn’t sure what this relationship with Iwaizumi can be classified as. Apart from a lot of making out and some casual grinding, they haven’t done much. Oikawa's almost certain the grinding was an accident on Iwaizumi's part anyway because he pulled away pretty quick after the one time he did.

To be completely honest, Oikawa wouldn’t have minded if he continued back then but he didn’t and he hasn’t tried anything more since, either. They’re certainly not  _in_  a relationship but they are seeing one another… maybe.

Having this out in the open confuses Oikawa more than when there was no label that he had to try and put on it to make it explainable.

“You know what this means, right?” Akaashi says, reading Oikawa’s confusion.

“What?” Oikawa asks.

“That he’s your sugar daddy.”

Oikawa freezes. He can’t have possibly heard right.

“ _What_?” he shouts. “No.”

“I’m just saying,” Akaashi defends. “He buys you expensive shit,” he eyes the shirt Oikawa's wearing, “I bet he takes you out to dinner and pays for everything when you’re together. See!” he accuses when Oikawa's face turns impossibly redder. “Oh come on, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, you deserve for someone to dote on you— _to_   _take care of you_.”

“But he’s not… he doesn’t…” Oikawa says weakly.

“Keep telling yourself that. Bokuto agrees with me, right?” he asks his boyfriend as he walks into the living room.

Oikawa didn’t realize that Bokuto is home; now he’s doubly embarrassed even though Bokuto is an easygoing, no-drama kind of guy.

“Huh?” Bokuto asks, startled at hearing his name.

“You agree with me, don’t you?” Akaashi prompts. “That Oikawa's got himself a sugar daddy?”

Bokuto’s eyes widen in surprise at the question but he nods, much to Akaashi’s pleasure and Oikawa's chagrin. “Sure, baby,” Bokuto agrees. “Do you actually?” he asks Oikawa seriously, having done his duty to appease his boyfriend.

Oikawa wrinkles his nose in displeasure. The term sounds so crude and he’s not sure what he and Iwaizumi are doing fits the bill. But then again, he’s not sure what they’re doing  _doesn’t_  fit the bill. He was much happier not having any of Akaashi’s ideas floating around in his head.

“I don’t know,” he admits dully.

Akaashi notices Oikawa's hesitancy and scoots over closer to him on the couch, putting an arm around his shoulder. Bokuto looks towards the kitchen, his obvious destination, before he forgoes the idea of food and joins Akaashi and Oikawa on the couch as well.

Bokuto attends Waseda University, whereas Oikawa and Akaashi go to Keio, but the two are located close enough that he and Akaashi are able to share an apartment and have comfortable commutes. Oikawa hates to admit it but he’s felt jealous of their relationship before. They’re so domestic and cute it’s sometimes nauseating but in the good kind of way.

Akaashi’s a great friend and Bokuto is a great person so it’s only fair that they deserve one another. They balance each other out too, both having their moments of loudness and calm. Bokuto may be Akaashi’s boyfriend but he’s also been a friend to Oikawa and that’s something Oikawa appreciates even if it means he’s subject to walking in on his friends having sex more times than he can count.

In his defense, Akaashi yelling  _‘Open!’_  at the sound of knocking on the door in the middle of getting fucked in the living room is not something Oikawa could have predicted.

“Is he good to you?” Bokuto asks instead, bringing Oikawa back to his current problems.

“Yeah,” Oikawa admits easily.

He smiles at the memory of Iwaizumi when he dropped Oikawa home from work yesterday. The day before, they had taken a walk through Todoroki Valley Park and Oikawa pointed out patches of floating water lilies on the ponds. He told Iwaizumi they were the birthday flower for July; it was just general knowledge, something interesting to share, but the next day Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a small bouquet of water lilies right before he bid him goodbye for the night.

“There you go, that’s all you need,” Bokuto pats his shoulder supportively.

He gives Akaashi a quick peck on the cheek and apologizes for excusing himself but he’s got a physiology lab to write up. Oikawa wishes him good luck as he gets up and goes to the kitchen for a snack.

“So… have you slept with him?” Akaashi asks bluntly, the moment Bokuto retreats back into his room.

“Akaashi!” Oikawa screams, covering his friend’s face with a throw pillow.

Akaashi laughs hysterically at Oikawa's distress. It’s good to know his friend isn’t angry with him for keeping secrets and overall, it’s liberating to not have to keep that information to himself anymore.

In a way though, it brings more stress into Oikawa's life because he’s worried Iwaizumi has expectations and Oikawa isn’t going to be able to meet them.

He can’t deny that he’s thought about sleeping with Iwaizumi but that was because he thought he had the choice. Now that he knows it might be a condition of their arrangement, he doesn’t feel so enthusiastic about the thought.

But he puts on a distracted smile for his friend as he pulls out his laptop and they begin to work on their project because it could just be nothing and he doesn’t want to talk about it now.

* * *

There’s something oddly satisfying about the way Iwaizumi can pick him up so easily. It shouldn’t be such a simple feat for him; Oikawa is nearing 6’1” and has the build to back it up, but Iwaizumi has Oikawa's weight trapped firmly against his hips and Oikawa's legs wrapped around his waist.

The feel of Iwaizumi’s body in front of him and the door to Iwaizumi’s penthouse behind him snares Oikawa in a haze of heat.

Iwaizumi’s mouth is at his clavicle, the top two buttons of Oikawa’s shirt undone. He wasn’t planning on seeing Iwaizumi today, not after he spent most of his day working on his project, but he’s been feeling on edge since telling Akaashi about him and he figured the best way to resolve the issue was to face it head on.

What Oikawa didn’t account for was Iwaizumi to take one look at the shirt Oikawa was wearing that he got for him and pin him to his front door without so much as a ‘hello.’

“Iwa-chan, what are you, a teenage boy? Do you have to leave so many marks?” Oikawa complains.

Iwaizumi nips his skin for that comment, the small bite tingling and sure to make the bruise underneath it worse for the wear.

“Your argument is invalid when you insist on calling me that stupid nickname,” Iwaizumi grunts.

He lifts his mouth back up to meet Oikawa’s in a short kiss before he’s back to sucking along Oikawa’s neck and chest.

Oikawa’s work uniform covers up Iwaizumi’s favourite spot along his clavicle and he doesn’t have classes to worry about for the moment so he’s not really upset but he’s still a little annoyed about that sneaky mark he couldn’t see earlier so he’s feeling stubborn. What if he showed up to work like that? He couldn’t afford to be told off twice in one month, especially when his chances for a reprimand are high enough as they are with Iwaizumi stealing his attention during his breaks.

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa repeats, gripping Iwaizumi's biceps.

Really, it’s all Iwaizumi’s fault that Oikawa knows about his childhood nickname in the first place. He stupidly let Oikawa into his study and allowed him to sift through the photo albums as a means for apologizing for taking a business call during their dinner.

Oikawa wasn’t offended by it either way, but it was nice to see that Iwaizumi was a child at some point too. There was one photo captioned with  _‘Tetsu-chan and Iwa-chan,’_  which was honestly the best thing to come out of that night.

If Iwaizumi thinks Oikawa is going to let that go after he didn’t fight the initial use of the nickname then he is sorely mistaken.

He does have some very effective ways to get Oikawa to stop for a few moments though.

“You look good in this shirt,” Iwaizumi compliments.

“How would you know? You barely saw me in it,” Oikawa flushes.

“Yeah, well, what I saw was enough to make me want you,” Iwaizumi huffs.

He shows Oikawa what he means by his statement when he angles his hips and Oikawa can feel how hard he is against him.

Oikawa freezes, his earlier conversation with Akaashi coming back to hit him full force. He was distracted when he got to Iwaizumi’s house but Iwaizumi’s obvious erection reminds him of the reason why he’s here in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling away.

The fact that he notices Oikawa’s change in demeanour makes Oikawa want to cry but he’s not going to belittle himself in front of Iwaizumi.

He gently lowers Oikawa’s legs to the ground and takes a step back, giving Oikawa space to breathe. He looks embarrassed and worried at the same time. This is probably why he was hesitant to do anything more than kiss Oikawa in the past week. He’s been nothing but nice and Oikawa feels bad for making him think he’s done something wrong when he hasn’t.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Oikawa asks frankly.

“What? Where did that come from?”

Iwaizumi looks like he’s trying to decipher if this is a joke or not. But he doesn’t say no, which prompts Oikawa to keep on with his questioning.

“Do you  _expect_  me to have sex with you?” Oikawa rephrases.

“No, why would you ever think that?” Iwaizumi asks.

He reaches a hand out to place on Oikawa’s face but he stops himself halfway, pulling it down to his side awkwardly.

“Then why are you doing all these nice things for me? Why do you insist on seeing me and paying for me wherever we go?” Oikawa argues.

He doesn’t know why he’s looking for a fight where there isn’t one but he needs to be sure. There haven’t been any red flags with Iwaizumi as far as Oikawa is concerned but to clear his conscience he has to know why Iwaizumi is spending time and money on something **—** _someone_ **—** he may not see a full reward with?

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi admits. “I kind of like you and I like seeing you happy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t get mad at me for saying this but you’re not exactly financially stable and well, I am. I like you so let me help you.”

“So I’m a charity case?” Oikawa purses his lips in annoyance.

“No,” Iwaizumi denies. “I—I want you to be happy.”

“So you’ve said,” Oikawa hums. “What do you expect to get out of this?” he asks bluntly.

Iwaizumi looks extremely uncomfortable now and Oikawa would feel bad if it he wasn’t so focused on clearing up the air.

“Nothing, I swear,” he promises.

“Well currently you get to kiss me,” Oikawa points out.

“You kissed me first. You never said you didn’t want me to,” Iwaizumi argues weakly.

“What if I stop wanting it?” Oikawa hedges.

Iwaizumi folds his arms over his chest and Oikawa expects him to kick him out of his home but he just shakes his head in a sad sort of way at himself.

“Then that’s fine, I’ll stop,” he says.

“You’ll stop hanging out with me entirely too? Stop giving me rides and paying for me?” Oikawa asks.

“No, Oikawa, what kind of an asshole do you think I am?” Iwaizumi frowns.

He sounds annoyed— _looks_  annoyed.

Oikawa still doesn’t understand why Iwaizumi is doing this but at least now he knows for certain that he doesn’t truly expect anything from Oikawa. He can’t explain why he believes Iwaizumi but he does and that renews his excitement for what they were doing earlier.

Now that he’s no longer on edge, he can appreciate how good Iwaizumi looks, slightly flushed from the effort of having to keep Oikawa up, how his massive arms are exposed in the casual t-shirt he’s wearing and how he really is hard in his sweatpants.

He doesn’t look like he’s wearing any boxers underneath, the outline of his cock quite prominent in his pants and it makes Oikawa want to see if he’s really that big for himself. He always wanted Iwaizumi in more ways than one; he just wasn’t sure if he should.

Those doubts are gone now.

Oikawa reaches forward and gently takes Iwaizumi by the arm, switching their positions so Iwaizumi is caged in by the door and Oikawa’s in front of him instead.

If he wanted, Iwaizumi could easily move away but he’s silent and still, a nervous expression on his face.

Oikawa slips his hand underneath Iwaizumi’s t-shirt and slowly traces the hard lines of his abs. How the fuck does he have the time to look so fit when he’s running one of the biggest construction companies in Tokyo?

It’s unfair but then again, Oikawa has him pinned to the door so he reminds himself it’s all about perspective.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Iwaizumi asks gently when Oikawa falls to his knees in front of him.

“I want to blow you,” he says honestly, a hint of pink giving away his embarrassment.

“You don’t have to,” Iwaizumi says hoarsely.

“You don’t want me to?” Oikawa asks, blinking up at him.

“That’s definitely  _not_  what I said,” Iwaizumi lets out a strained laugh.

It’s good enough of an answer to egg Oikawa on. He discards any embarrassment he has about doing this because he knows Iwaizumi is hard for him and tugs down Iwaizumi’s sweatpants until they’re pooled at his feet.

He  _isn’t_  wearing boxers. And he  _is_  as big as Oikawa thought he might be. Both facts startle Oikawa for about half a second before he realizes he’s just staring and gets to work.

Oikawa takes Iwaizumi’s length in his hands and strokes it from base to tip, wetting his lips in anticipation. He doesn’t think he can fit all of him into his mouth but he’s certainly not above trying.

He starts off slow, pressing a kiss to the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit, then continuing the slide up leisurely.

Iwaizumi’s already grunting above him, hands fisted in Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa half expects him to fuck Oikawa’s mouth right off the bat but he’s patient and lets Oikawa set the pace even though it’s painfully clear that he wants more.

Oikawa uses his thumb to trace the bulging vein that runs along the underside. Iwaizumi tenses at that;  _sensitive_ , Oikawa notes for himself.

By the time he’s done teasing Iwaizumi's face is fully flushed and contorted, like he’s trying his best to keep his composure. It turns Oikawa on and he can feel his own cock, hard and heavy in his pants. Unlike Iwaizumi he  _is_  wearing boxers so the extra fabric makes it all the more uncomfortable.

Still, Oikawa walked into this and he’s never been a quitter so he slacks his jaw and takes Iwaizumi as far back into his mouth as he can. He gets just over halfway before he can feel his throat constricting at the unfamiliar intrusion.

Oikawa slows down and takes his time, hollowing out his cheeks so Iwaizumi can feel the pressure along with the warmth of Oikawa's mouth.

“Fuck, go harder,” Iwaizumi grunts out, his need finally breaking loose.

Oikawa could almost smile, if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth is otherwise preoccupied. He squeezes his eyes shut and relaxes his jaw further until he can feel Iwaizumi slipping deeper inside. The tip of his cock hits the back of Oikawa's throat and he almost gags then, but Iwaizumi's praises of how he’s doing so well and making him feel  _so good_  calm Oikawa down.

He brings his hand up to cup Iwaizumi's balls, massaging them gently and earning a strangled sound from the man above him. Oikawa pulls back suddenly, hands firm on Iwaizumi's thighs.

“You can fuck my mouth,” he says seriously.

Iwaizumi growls low in his throat, one hand running through Oikawa's hair while the other cups his jaw. He tries to find some kind of hesitation in Oikawa's face but when he doesn't he gives in to his desires.

Oikawa lets his jaw loosen as much as it can and whimpers under Iwaizumi's deep thrusts when the man slides his cock back into Oikawa's mouth. He's rough, hands tugging and pulling while his hips move back and forth, gaining momentum with every thrust.

It’s been so long since Oikawa's had someone fuck his mouth that he’s forgotten how much it turns him on to be used like this. Iwaizumi forgoes any ounce of gentleness that he’s restrained himself to, the moment Oikawa gives him free reign.

Iwaizumi drags his cock deep inside Oikawa's mouth until it starts to slip down his throat, thrusting roughly. His balls slap the underside of Oikawa's chin with each drag, Oikawa's own drool mixing with Iwaizumi's precum.

“You’re really okay with this?” Iwaizumi asks carefully.

Even through his question he doesn't stop moving his hips.

Oikawa moans his approval, eyes closed and face blissed out. It's all the assurance Iwaizumi needs.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Iwaizumi whispers as he tilts Oikawa’s neck back.

With Iwaizumi distracted in getting himself off, Oikawa undoes the button of his jeans, sliding his cock out. He’s embarrassingly wet but that just makes it easier for Oikawa to jerk himself off to the fast pace Iwaizumi's going at in his mouth. He uses one hand to stroke himself, the other still fondling Iwaizumi's heavy sack, gently urging him on. Oikawa can feel his eyes start to tear, breathing uneven, but Iwaizumi's making him feel so good and he doesn't want it to stop.

He can feel every inch of Iwaizumi's thick cock carving its way around his mouth, down his throat. Iwaizumi's vocal about how good it feels and that spurs Oikawa on. He can barely breathe, every puff of air a struggle but it's worth it when he's got Iwaizumi's length rubbing him raw. If he feels this good down his throat Oikawa doesn’t know what he’ll feel like in his ass.

Embarrassingly, he cums before Iwaizumi does, hand sticky and body convulsing in pleasure. Iwaizumi's quick to reach his own orgasm after that, adding to Oikawa's stimulation as he releases his seed down his throat, riding out his orgasm as he does.

Oikawa can feel the warmth pooling in his stomach and he tries to swallow it all. When Iwaizumi pulls out, a few drops land over his lips and chin but Iwaizumi pulls him up and is quick to kiss them away.

What he can’t clean with his tongue he wipes away with his hand until Oikawa's a trembling mess in his arms.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Iwaizumi groans, burying his face in Oikawa's neck.

He presses wet kisses to his skin, leaving a fiery new flush in his wake. After everything that just happened, it’s this comment that makes Oikawa’s face burn red.

“Iwa-chan’s so rough,” Oikawa sighs bashfully.

His voice is hoarse, his jaw is starting to hurt, and he knows it’ll be worse tomorrow but he feels  _good_.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Iwaizumi asks, worriedly pulling back to take a look at Oikawa's face. “Shit, I didn’t even offer to get you off, I’m so sorry let me—”

He stops when he notices Oikawa's jeans are open and he’s poorly stuffed his soft cock back into his boxers after jerking himself off. Oikawa expects Iwaizumi to tease him, say something about how he’s impatient but he takes one look at Oikawa's front then locks his eyes with Oikawa's.

“Next time, let me suck you.”

Both the promise of a  _next time_  and the fact that Iwaizumi wants to do that  _for him_  instead of only expecting Oikawa to give are too much. Oikawa uses his hands to cover his face, the embarrassment finally overpowering his desire.

Iwaizumi ruffles his hair affectionately and brings him to the kitchen. He offers Oikawa a glass of water and asks if he wants anything else.

Oikawa doesn’t; he’s content to sit there and stare at the way Iwaizumi's trying to fawn over him. Maybe Akaashi was right—maybe Oikawa  _does_  deserve to have someone want to take care of him.

“You want to eat?” Iwaizumi asks, gesturing around them.

“I think I had plenty to eat just now, thank you,” Oikawa teases.

Iwaizumi looks genuinely embarrassed, which only serves to boost Oikawa's ego. He grins at the man but then shakes his head, telling him that he had dinner before he came.

After all, it’s 10 pm now and while Oikawa may not be the most responsible person when it comes to sleep, food is not something he will forego.

“Will you drive me home?” Oikawa asks.

He’s not embarrassed to ask for it now that Iwaizumi's made his intentions clear. Iwaizumi shakes his head though and Oikawa fears he may have misunderstood the situation after all.

“Stay the night,” Iwaizumi offers.

Oikawa hesitates for a few seconds, running a hand up his arm. Somehow, he knows that if he declines the offer that Iwaizumi will drop him home and that realization is what urges him to stay.

“Okay,” he agrees.

Iwaizumi smiles at him, asks him if he’s sure he doesn’t want anything to eat and when Oikawa insists that he doesn’t, he leads him upstairs to the bathroom. He lets Oikawa use the shower and gives him a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in that smell very much like him.

Oikawa won’t admit it to Iwaizumi but he has a hard time figuring out all the fancy buttons in his shower. Why can’t he just have a tap to turn on the hot water and one to change the water from gushing out into the tub to the shower?

But he figures it out eventually and when there are bubbles smelling of sandalwood that start to foam at his feet and the showerhead has ten different pressure settings, Oikawa can understand the appeal to the many buttons.

By the time he comes out of the bathroom adjoining the master bedroom, Iwaizumi is already sitting on the bed hunched over his laptop, a pair of reading glasses perched firmly on his nose and shirt discarded.

He looks pretty cute like that and it puts an added bounce in Oikawa's step as he walks over and gets into his bed.

Iwaizumi looks at him the moment he feels the bed dip under Oikawa's weight. He puts his laptop away and places his glasses on the nightstand in favour of setting his attention on Oikawa.

“Don’t you need your glasses to look at me better?” Oikawa teases.

“Not if you’re this close,” Iwaizumi retorts, pulling Oikawa towards him.

Oikawa lets out a surprised squeak. Iwaizumi kisses his embarrassment away until Oikawa's melting into his touch.

“They’re just for reading, I can see fine without them,” Iwaizumi says seriously.

“Hmm,” Oikawa acknowledges.

He’s all but forgotten about his earlier comment when he’s got Iwaizumi's bare chest to distract him now. If Iwaizumi notices, he doesn’t say anything but Oikawa continues to slide his eyes over his large pecs, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them.

Iwaizumi busies himself with getting Oikawa a pillow he’s comfortable with. Oikawa doesn’t understand the difference between the various types but it’s sort of nice to see Iwaizumi fuss over him so he lets him show Oikawa what he has and Oikawa picks one at random.

It’s still nicer than any pillow Oikawa's ever slept on.

Iwaizumi has his hand up Oikawa’s shirt as they lie in his oversized bed. It’s so big they could be sleeping on opposite sides and not touch but instead they’re sleeping in the middle, Iwaizumi smiling softly at Oikawa as his hands roam up and down his back absentmindedly.

“I told my friend about us—Akaashi. Well, he pretty much guessed because you left a hidden hickey on me!” Oikawa accuses. “Anyway, you probably know him from the Blue Crystal.”

“What did he say?” Iwaizumi smiles, fingers trailing down the length of Oikawa’s spine.

“He said that you were my sugar daddy. I told him that’s ridiculous,” Oikawa blushes.

He regrets saying the words aloud when he sees Iwaizumi’s face break out into a grin. “If that’s what you want to call it, then I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

“Don’t mind? Look at that stupid smile, you’re actually happy about this, aren’t you?” Oikawa cries.

Iwaizumi laughs at Oikawa’s reaction, hand trailing down his back until it lands on his ass. He squeezes an asscheek between his large palm, making Oikawa yelp in surprise.

“Can you blame me for being happy about making  _you_  happy?” Iwaizumi retorts.

“Who said I was happy?” Oikawa argues.

It’s a moot point when he can’t even stop himself from smiling halfway through the insult. Iwaizumi knows it too, so he doesn’t reply. He uses his hand on Oikawa’s behind as leverage to push Oikawa closer to him, swinging a leg over his hip and securing him in his chest.

Oikawa makes a fuss for show but quickly falls into the comfort that Iwaizumi’s body provides.

Along with the silk sheets, memory foam mattress, and down pillows that make his entire body feel like it’s floating, that night, Oikawa gets the best sleep he’s ever gotten in his entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

“Iwaizumi-san, you’re fifteen minutes behind schedule and you have a packed day ahead of you. If I were you, I would take breakfast in the car on your way to work to make up for the lost time.”

Oikawa's eyes shoot open at the sound of a female voice. Iwaizumi's still mumbling something next to him so Oikawa turns over and comes face to face with a pair of legs in a pinstripe pantsuit.

“Ahh!” he screams, reaching for the covers at his waist.

He’s fully clothed but that doesn’t stop Oikawa from pulling them over his head and hiding his face in the hope that the strange woman standing next to Iwaizumi's bed will not get a good look at him.

Was Iwaizumi lying when he said he wasn’t interested in women? Because there’s a  _ woman _ standing in his bedroom at this very moment.

“Iwaizumi-san, are you even listening to me? At the rate you’re moving, I predict you will be an hour late to your investors meeting with the bank and that is not a good impression to make when you are looking for a loan,” the woman continues, ignoring Oikawa completely.

Now he’s just offended.

But when Oikawa registers the words that the woman is saying, he realizes that this must be Iwaizumi's personal assistant. No wonder she has a key to his apartment and has no qualms about invading his private and personal space.

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Iwaizumi groans, finally answering. He picks up his phone to check the time. “It’s only 6:20 am and the meeting isn’t until 9 am, what do you mean I’m fifteen minutes late?” he asks, annoyed at having been lied to.

“You haven’t read through any of your briefing notes. You are not prepared for this meeting at all. By all standards you  _ are _ late,” the woman insists.

Iwaizumi mutters a few choice words under his breath but his personal assistant doesn’t seem to be bothered. Oikawa can see her silhouette through the blue sheets. She has a very no-nonsense look about her, glasses perched neatly on her nose, hair tied up in a pristine ponytail. She isn’t at all perturbed by Iwaizumi's annoyance either, face remaining impassive through his grumbling as he gets up.

“You can leave now, Shimizu. Unless you’d like to follow me to the bathroom so you can tell me just how much time I’m wasting on showering and brushing my teeth,” Iwaizumi says sarcastically.

“I will excuse your grumpy attitude because I know you’re not a morning person but I expect a large honey milk latte before the end of the day,” she says curtly before excusing herself from the room.

Oikawa doesn’t know how anyone can talk to Iwaizumi like that and get away with it but evidently this woman, Shimizu, has. Oikawa wants to know what her secret is.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi curses.

He really  _ isn’t _ a morning person. His grumpiness would be considered cute if it wasn’t for the fact that Oikawa is mortified and Iwaizumi isn’t even the least bit concerned for him.

“Iwa-chan, what the hell? This is so embarrassing!” he complains when Iwaizumi ignores his presence.

“Relax, she’s not going to say anything,” he reassures, leaning over and pulling the sheets off Oikawa's face. “Come on, don’t be embarrassed.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got enough friends and prestige that no one will care what you do. What if she tells Fujiyama-san and I get fired?” he asks.

It’s a legitimate concern. They haven’t talked about the secrecy in their relationship, if Oikawa can even classify it as a _relationship_ , and he isn’t sure if he even wants Fujiyama-san to know lest he reacts poorly. 

“She won’t and even she does he won’t care,” Iwaizumi says. “But if it makes you feel better, you can have a job at my company if he does fire you,” he offers.

“That’s nepotism,” Oikawa informs.

Though he does feel a little better knowing that at least he won’t be out of a job if things go sideways for him at the Blue Crystal.

“I don’t want him to know,” Oikawa says quietly.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi agrees.

Oikawa doesn't know if he should be offended by Iwaizumi's complacence or not. But it is early and Oikawa's willing to believe that some of it has to do with the fact that Iwaizumi's tired and has more pressing matters on his mind and not because he’s embarrassed to be seen with Oikawa. 

Iwaizumi presses a kiss to Oikawa's cheek and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, making no indication of what he’d like Oikawa to do. So Oikawa lounges in his bed for a few more minutes before he works up the courage to go downstairs because there’s only so long he can roll around on the large bed and scroll through his phone before he gets curious. 

“Oh, I thought you were Iwaizumi-san,” Shimizu says when she hears Oikawa coming down.

She turns her attention back to her phone in her left hand, furiously scribbling notes into a notebook on the side with her right.

“No, he’s still in the bathroom,” Oikawa informs.

“Figures,” Shimizu snorts. “He’s probably doing everything he can to avoid reading his briefing notes. He  _ hates _ being told what to do,” she says.

She’s not looking at Oikawa but she’s still talking to him so Oikawa concludes she doesn’t hate him but that she’s just busy. It’s admirable, and somewhat impressive, that she can keep up a conversation and be immersed in her work at the same time.

“Then why does he request them?” Oikawa asks, confused.

“Because that’s the way the company’s always worked. Iwaizumi-san’s father made the rule and when he passed away, Iwaizumi-san was given the title of CEO and all the power to change what he likes but he’s kept most of the harmless protocols, if only to honour his father and his grandfather before him,” she says.

Oikawa doesn’t know if Shimizu is allowed to share this information with him but she seems to not be bothered by it either way. Oikawa supposes Iwaizumi's backstory is probably available on some news article on the Internet, anyway.

He hasn’t looked him up past the first few sentences of a Wikipedia article, but maybe he will now. The information he did find out didn’t speak volumes about Iwaizumi’s character but Oikawa has a feeling that his connections to the yakuza are more family ties rather than real loyalty. At least, a part of him hopes that true. 

It doesn’t take away from the fact that Iwaizumi  _ is _ a member of Fujiyama-san’s inner circle no matter his position outside but there haven’t been any concerns for Oikawa to feel wary yet. 

Oikawa doesn’t miss the insinuation that Iwaizumi changed a lot when he took over the company from his father. He hopes Shimizu means for the better but after talking to Iwaizumi, Oikawa cannot see her words meaning anything else.

“Oh,” Oikawa says for a lack of anything better to say. 

He fidgets at the foot of the staircase, unsure where to go and what to do. Shimizu is sitting at the bar, her back to Oikawa but her face towards the kitchen through the opening in the wall that separates the two sides.

“Don’t just stand there on my account. Iwaizumi-san won’t be happy if he knows I scared you away from coming into the kitchen,” she says, startling Oikawa with her accuracy.

Oikawa awkwardly shuffles over to the kitchen. He wasn’t actually looking for food but now he feels like he has to because Shimizu specifically mentioned the kitchen.

When he catches his reflection in the marble countertop, Oikawa's grateful that he looks somewhat put together even though he’s just woken up. Unlike Iwaizumi who is cranky in the morning, Oikawa has no problem with waking up early. It helps that his hair doesn’t stick up on ends either, though in Iwaizumi's defense, his hair is normally slightly spiked too.

“Do you want anything?” Oikawa asks Shimizu.

“No thank you, I already ate,” she politely declines.

“How early do you have to wake up?” Oikawa asks.

He realizes the question may be rude too late.

“Usually I’m up by 5 am. I don’t live far from here so Iwaizumi-san’s driver picks me up and brings me here for 6 am on weekdays. He refuses to work on the weekends though I think he’s missing out on a lot of capital because he isn’t,” she says bluntly.

No wonder this woman can talk to Iwaizumi like she does and still have a job. Oikawa wouldn’t want to fire someone so efficient and put-together either.

He doesn’t understand anything about business so he hums in acknowledgement and moves on.

Astonishingly, it’s not as awkward as Oikawa expected it to be around Iwaizumi's personal assistant. She’s minding her own business, barely looking up but she notices when Oikawa struggles to find a spoon and a bowl and she points him in the right direction.

It’s kind of frightening how she knows what he’s doing without even making eye contact but Oikawa appreciates the help. He cautiously takes the seat next to her and she even scoots over to make room for him.

Unsurprisingly, Iwaizumi only has plain fibre cereals and oats, but it’s still better than what Oikawa has at home so he eats his food gratefully.

Iwaizumi comes downstairs while Oikawa's eating breakfast, decked out in a charcoal grey suit, white collared shirt and maroon tie. Oikawa can see a matching maroon handkerchief in his breast pocket and a perfectly straight tie pin keeping the accessory in place against his chest.

Just like his other suit, this one fits extremely well too, the lines of Iwaizumi's muscles slightly visible. He fills out the shoulders of his jacket, giving way to the build underneath and Oikawa kind of wishes Shimizu wasn’t here so he can give Iwaizumi a proper greeting for wearing such sexy clothes.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you that I have to be up early today,” Iwaizumi apologizes to Oikawa.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind waking up early,” Oikawa reassures, clearing his throat.

Shimizu snorts from her seat. “Looks like you’re the only one who doesn’t like waking up early, Iwaizumi-san, which is unfortunate considering it’s a requirement for your job.”

Oikawa's stunned she can tease like that. Iwaizumi's face sours, but there’s no real conviction behind his disgruntled expression.

Iwaizumi ignores her and moves to the kitchen, sifting through the fruit basket for an apple. He turns to face Oikawa from the other side of the kitchen, leaning over the countertop until they’re face to face.

Oikawa's face heats up when Iwaizumi's unwavering gaze is on him under most circumstances but with Shimizu sitting right next to him, he feels even more reason to flush.

“What are you doing today?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Uh… homework, maybe,” Oikawa shrugs.

Just because it’s the summer break doesn’t mean he doesn’t have homework to do. The exams may be over for the first half of the year but most of his courses are full-year in length and that means he has culminating assignments due when they return to school from the break.

Admitting that he has homework to do reminds Oikawa of the age difference between him and Iwaizumi. Frankly, Oikawa doesn’t really care but he’s wary of what Shimizu might say even though Iwaizumi reassured him that she wouldn’t judge.

“Maybe?” Iwaizumi smirks. “What about work?”

“Well I don’t  _ have _ to do it today, so maybe,” Oikawa argues stubbornly. “And nope, there’s a small private event so the whole restaurant is booked and they don’t need all the servers.”  

“Then do something more fun,” Iwaizumi says. “I heard there’s a new mall that opened up in Shinjuku.”

He looks like he’s trying hard not to put Oikawa in a category that fits young adults. It’s kind of amusing to see the gears in Iwaizumi's head shifting so as to not say the wrong thing.

“You want me to go shopping,” Oikawa raises his eyebrows. “With what money?”

It's a rhetorical question and Oikawa's not looking for a legitimate answer because he’s so used to having to tell people he can’t go places or do things just because he can’t afford it. He forgets who he’s talking to so when Iwaizumi looks at him like he’s grown a second head and slides over a credit card Oikawa almost falls off the barstool.

“Iwa-chan, what is this?” Oikawa gapes, sliding the shiny black card back across the counter to Iwaizumi.

“A credit card? You said you didn’t have money. Now you do,” he states.

It isn’t as simple as Iwaizumi is making it out to be. Oikawa's eyes look over to where Shimizu is sitting but she’s shut herself out of this conversation completely, leaving Oikawa to make a decision on his own.

“I can’t,” he frowns.

“Why not?” Iwaizumi argues. “It’s not like you asked for it. I’m giving it to you so do what you want. It’s yours now so if you don’t use it, I’ll cancel it.”

Iwaizumi's stubborn and Oikawa can see why he’s the CEO of his company now. He needs a straightforward attitude to get far in that kind of world and Iwaizumi certainly has what it takes to compete.

Oikawa feels like he’s being bullied into accepting but then again, bullies didn’t  _ give _ things—they take—so the comparison doesn’t make any sense. Oikawa takes the card and pulls his hand to the side so it’s out of the way. Iwaizumi seems to think that Oikawa's accepted and he smiles victoriously. He supposes now he has no choice  _ but to _ when Iwaizumi looks so genuinely pleased.

“I’ll let the doorman know to call you a cab when you come downstairs. Take as much time as you need and don’t worry about the front door because it’ll lock itself,” Iwaizumi says, moving out of the kitchen.

“You’re leaving?” Oikawa asks.

It’s such a stupid question. Of course he’s leaving; it’s what Shimizu’s here for. Iwaizumi seems to understand Oikawa’s concern though.

“Shimizu, can you give me a minute? I’ll meet you downstairs,” Iwaizumi says.

She raises her eyebrows like she doesn’t quite believe him but one skeptical look later she gets off the stool, pockets her phone and notebook into a purse and leaves the apartment.

Oikawa won’t admit it but he’s a little disappointed that Iwaizumi has to go to work. The past week they only saw one another after he was done for the day except for the weekends where he didn’t work at all so Oikawa didn’t quite get to see him in his morning routine.

Something about being allowed to stay the night has turned a switch on and Oikawa isn’t sure he knows how to turn it off.

He gets up to meet Iwaizumi where he stands behind the chair Shimizu was just occupying moments ago.

“What’s your favourite movie?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Gattaca,” Oikawa answers easily.

He doesn’t know why Iwaizumi asked Shimizu to leave just for this.

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll call you when I’m done for the day and we can go down to Roppongi and watch it together?” he offers.

“It’s not playing in theatres,” Oikawa reminds.

Iwaizumi smiles at him like he knows but Oikawa's left even more confused by the look. “Do you want to watch it or not?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yes, but I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. What if I just rent it from the store? You did give me this,” Oikawa says, showing Iwaizumi his credit card.

Iwaizumi laughs at Oikawa's confusion.

“You have too little faith in me. I’ll see you tonight,” he confirms.

“Yes, yes, I know, Iwa-chan needs to go make money,” Oikawa sighs dramatically.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Iwaizumi smiles.

He reaches out to kiss him but Oikawa's reminded that he hasn’t brushed yet and his breath probably smells worse from the milk he’s had with his cereal so he turns his head and Iwaizumi's lips end up making contact with his cheek instead.

“Wow, okay,” Iwaizumi laughs.

“I have morning breath, I’m just looking out for you!” Oikawa defends even though he knows Iwaizumi is joking.

His face heats up when Iwaizumi kisses his cheek anyway and snakes a hand around his waist to squeeze his ass. Oikawa notes with a sheepish smile that Iwaizumi's quite fond of his ass.

“I guess this’ll do for now,” he remarks. “I’ll call you when I’m done. I meant what I said about going shopping. Use the card, take your friend Akaashi with you if you don’t want to go alone, but I really do have to go now before Shimizu chops my head off.”

Oikawa thinks Shimizu is capable of more than just a beheading so he waves goodbye and watches Iwaizumi go from the foyer.

The realization that he’s all alone in Iwaizumi's penthouse hits him the moment the security system locks the door with a loud  _ click _ . There are probably cameras in the place too and Iwaizumi can’t be the only one with access to them, which makes Oikawa feel even more nervous.

He knows that Iwaizumi said he could take his time but Oikawa finishes his breakfast quickly, brushes his teeth with the extra toothbrush Iwaizumi's laid out for him and changes into a new pair of t-shirt and jeans put out for him on the bed that are surprisingly his exact size before he leaves the apartment.

Iwaizumi told him that his staff didn’t work on the weekends but today is a Monday and while it may be early, there’s no telling when his cook or his maids or anyone else that he hires will come in. Oikawa's not sure he can handle the surprise of any more people seeing him in Iwaizumi's apartment today.

* * *

“Are you sure this is okay?” Akaashi asks skeptically as Oikawa hands him another shirt to try on.

“Of course it is,” Oikawa waves off, sifting through the clothes rack for something that catches his eye.

“I mean, maybe for you but Oikawa you can’t just use Iwaizumi-san’s money to buy things for _me_ ,” he hisses. 

Oikawa tookIwaizumi's advice and called up Akaashi as soon as the doorman of Iwaizumi's building called him a cab. Shopping alone was only okay when there were specific items that needed purchasing. Since Oikawa didn’t even have plans to go shopping in the first place, it was only going to be fun if he had someone with him.

Besides, Iwaizumi mentioned Akaashi by name and since he knows that Oikawa is seeing Iwaizumi it only makes sense that his friend is the person to bring along.

“He said it was okay,” Oikawa defends.

“Iwaizumi-san said that you can buy things for me?” Akaashi asks doubtfully.

“Not in so many words but he  _ did _ say to take you shopping with me so what else could that mean? He’s not that type of person,” Oikawa insists.

“Huh, and you know exactly what kind of a person he is now, do you?” Akaashi hums.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Oikawa says, annoyed by his friend’s dubiousness. “But I can call him and ask him about it if you’re really that worried.”

The fact that Akaashi is doubting Iwaizumi's generosity just one day after he insisted that Oikawa should accept that Iwaizumi wants to care for him is annoying. He knows that Akaashi doesn’t have any bad intentions; he’s just worried that Oikawa's going to get in trouble but he’s not. Neither of them are, and Oikawa wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t absolutely certain of the fact.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Akaashi apologizes. “Just so you know, if I have a group of men show up at my apartment tonight and demand that I give these clothes back, I’m taking you down with me,” he jokes.

Oikawa eases up as Akaashi relents.

“Don’t worry, they won’t. Iwa-chan said this card was mine so how is anyone going to know what it’ll be used for?”

“Seriously?” Akaashi laughs. “When will I have a rich guy take care of me?” he sighs.

“Bokuto’s well on his way to becoming a pro-volleyball player so I doubt it’ll be long after that,” Oikawa teases.

Akaashi shoves Oikawa's shoulder lightly though he has a smile on his face at the thought of his boyfriend. Oikawa resists the urge to comment in case the teasing is thrown back at him at some point. Akaashi has quite a good memory when it comes down to things like this.

“Hey, you know what would be a great idea?” Akaashi asks, face lighting up.

“What?” Oikawa narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“Lingerie!” he whispers excitedly.

Oikawa's face turns pink, mind suddenly forming a million different scenarios in which lingerie and Iwaizumi are both in the picture. Most of them have to do with Iwaizumi ripping it off of him but there are a couple of him getting fucked with the lacy material still on.

“You’re considering it,” Akaashi laughs.

“Shut up!” Oikawa shouts. “I take it back, I’m not buying you anything with my card.”

“Huh,  _ your _ card, is it?” Akaashi remarks, making Oikawa flush harder.

“You’re the worst,” Oikawa pouts.

“Save that look for someone it works on,” Akaashi sing-songs.”

They wander through the store looking for more clothes to try on, suggesting what will look good on one another. Part of it is the experience because Oikawa is definitely not going to buy the mountain of clothes he has in his arms. 

He’s picky about what he likes but he realizes that there are plenty of nice things that he might like to buy in this store and that makes him think that maybe his pickiness is a result of not always having a choice.

Still, he chooses three shirts and a new pair of dark jeans and calls it a day.

Oikawa’s not looking to buy anything else because he feels like he’s filled up his shopping quota for the  _ month _ even though Iwaizumi didn’t tell him how much he could spend. That doesn’t stop him and Akaashi from wandering around the mall, window shopping instead. 

“Oikawa, are you seriously telling me that you  _ don’t _ want to surprise Iwaizumi-san in that?” Akaashi asks, holding his arm to stop him in his tracks. 

Oikawa looks to where Akaashi’s pointing and he almost falls to the floor at the model of a woman wearing a black lace plunge open-gusset teddy. 

It looks good. _On her_. Oikawa’s not sure he can pull it off; it isn’t meant for him, after all. Though he can appreciate the delicate lace and how the cut of the outfit will definitely make his ass appear rounder. 

“I don’t know…” Oikawa hesitates.

“If you don’t want to do it yourself then let me buy it for you. You were the one going on about how Iwaizumi-san said it’s okay for me to use the card so let me do it,” Akaashi argues stubbornly.

Oikawa doesn’t know what possesses him to say yes, but he agrees and Akaashi pulls Oikawa into the store before he can change his mind. A sales clerk approaches them and Akaashi makes quick work of getting the teddy but he decides for Oikawa that a rich navy blue will suit him better than a black. 

There’s not much room for Oikawa to argue, not when he’s too busy nodding along to the sales clerk’s comments about how Akaashi’s girlfriend will love this. It makes him feel like maybe he’s doing something wrong but one glare from Akaashi and Oikawa’s fears wilt. 

“What an absolute tart,” Akaashi laughs as they exit the store, talking about the sales clerk.

“I didn’t like her,” Oikawa admits. 

“But she  _ was _ eyeing you up, which is why we got a discount. Take me with you whenever you want to buy more and I’m sure her obliviousness will benefit us again.”

“Who says I’ll be buying more?” Oikawa asks quickly. 

“Trust me, you will,” Akaashi states. 

Oikawa doesn’t want to know why Akaashi sounds so confident. He’s got enough problems as it is trying to fend off his friend from pulling out the lacy material in the middle of the mall lest Oikawa puts it on before the end of the night.

The humiliation of other people’s judgement makes Oikawa quick to agree and when they go home for the night, Akaashi takes Oikawa back to his apartment so he can resume his role as both the instigator and supportive friend. 

* * *

True to his word, Iwaizumi calls him at 7 pm when he’s finished with work for the day. Oikawa tells him that he’s at Akaashi and asks if Iwaizumi would like for them to meet at the theatre but Iwaizumi insists on picking him up. 

Akaashi’s apartment building is much nicer than Oikawa’s. It’s in a student complex not far from school, which makes the commute easier for him. For some reason, the fact that Iwaizumi is going to be able to see where Oikawa’s friend lives puts him at unease if only because he doesn’t want Iwaizumi to think Oikawa’s just making life worse for himself. 

Both he and Akaashi have the same courses, work in the same place, but Oikawa‘s worse off, financially. He feels like he has to explain himself when he sees Iwaizumi—tell him that the only reason he chooses to live in such a crappy environment is because all his life savings were used to pay off what he could of his father’s debt before Oikawa ran away for university.

Higuchi Asao can’t find him here to collect the rest though; not when the neighbourhood is good at minding its own business and Oikawa is inconspicuous about his lifestyle.

But Iwaizumi doesn’t make a distinguishing comment about Akaashi’s home compared to Oikawa’s. He just genuinely looks happy to see Oikawa and his smile makes Oikawa forget that he was worried about Iwaizumi judging him at all.

It’s his driver actually that picks Oikawa up, pulling up to the front of Akaashi’s building in a black Rolls Royce Phantom. 

Oikawa isn’t sure the car is meant for him even though it far outclasses the other vehicles in the area. But when Iwaizumi rolls down a window in the backseat and waves Oikawa over, it’s very clear that the car  _ is _ here to pick him up. 

“I thought you didn’t like being driven around,” Oikawa comments as soon as he’s buckled in. 

“I don’t,” Iwaizumi insists, earning him a snort from the man behind the wheel. “But I didn’t want to waste time going home and getting my own car out. Plus, now I don’t have to wait to do this,” he grins, snaking a hand around Oikawa’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. 

Iwaizumi’s mouth is hot and his lips are soft, urging Oikawa to open his mouth and let Iwaizumi slip his tongue in. He’s sure he lets out a few whimpers and Oikawa sort of feels bad for Iwaizumi’s driver who has to witness all this but he did miss the older man and it’s nice to see that he was missed too.

When Iwaizumi pull away Oikawa’s eyes are glazed over and his mind is foggy but in a good way.

“How was your day?” Iwaizumi asks, giving Oikawa something to focus on. 

“Oh, it was good. I went shopping with Akaashi,” Oikawa recalls. 

“Hmm, did you buy anything?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yes,” Oikawa nods. 

He bought five things, but only one is coming into mind right now and it’s the one that he’s embarrassed about. Oikawa’s worried Iwaizumi can tell he’s hiding something, especially when Iwaizumi’s hand comes to rest high up on his thigh, next to his crotch. 

Oikawa almost convinces himself that Iwaizumi just  _ knows _ he’s wearing that stupid lingerie Akaashi made him buy but if he does, he doesn’t say anything, thumb idly brushing against his pelvis.

“How was your day?” Oikawa asks, changing the subject.

“Boring,” Iwaizumi laughs. Oikawa frowns at his lacklustre response. “You really want to hear about it?” Iwaizumi asks. 

“I do,” Oikawa nods. 

It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand half of the lingo Iwaizumi uses or that he doesn’t truly know what a CEO does; Oikawa’s happy to listen to Iwaizumi talk about how he hates having to borrow money from the banks for new projects just because they send their most annoying investors, how the new interns are all scared of him and he doesn’t know why, how Shimizu keeps trying to shove food down his throat between meetings. 

Oikawa doesn’t really see a problem with the last comment, but he keeps his small smile to himself. 

When they get to the theatre in Roppongi, the establishment is eerily quiet. Oikawa’s worried for a few minutes because there’s no way a theatre is this empty until Iwaizumi tells him that he rented it out for the night so they could watch Oikawa’s favourite movie. 

Oikawa doesn’t know how anyone can afford that but he almost faints at the mention, anyway. The food stands are all open and working, only two employees behind the counter to get them what they want. Iwaizumi tells Oikawa that he can have whatever he wants because the price of renting out the theatre included all the food too so Oikawa doesn’t feel bad about ordering a bento box, a cola, and a large caramel and cheese popcorn. 

Iwaizumi laughs at his choice but then he orders nachos and yakisoba, which Oikawa is quick to point out is just as strange.

Even though Oikawa’s watched Gattaca more times than he can count, he enjoys the movie so it’s easy to get trapped in its pull. 

He even forgets about his lacy underwear problem for about half the movie. But without food to distract him, Iwaizumi’s hands start to wander about then, reminding Oikawa how the open gusset means his cock is starting to rub against the material of his jeans. 

It’s so uncomfortable he’s trying not to squirm. He can’t believe he’s getting turned on in a movie theatre of all places just because Iwaizumi’s hand is rubbing up his thigh. He feels like he’s a horny teenager, which would have been okay if they were alone in one of their homes but they’re in a public place and Oikawa doesn’t think he can take that kind of a heart-attack inducing encounter. 

Iwaizumi’s hand slides up further and his thumb brushes against his cock absentmindedly. Oikawa jumps in his seat, covering his mouth with his hand in embarrassment at the surprised squeak that escapes him. 

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says apologetically, pulling his hand away. 

He keeps it strictly to himself after that and Oikawa’s free to enjoy the movie again but his dick is still hard and he feels sort of awkward about sitting next to Iwaizumi who obviously feels guilty about what he did just a few minutes ago. 

“I don’t mind it if you touch me,” Oikawa whispers.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Your reaction earlier says otherwise.” 

He’s not trying to be mean, just cautious, and Oikawa can understand that. But that doesn’t mean he’s not slightly miffed by the comment all the same. 

“It’s not really  _ you _ that’s making me so jumpy,” Oikawa insists. 

“Well if it’s not me then what is it?” Iwaizumi asks. 

His disappointed frown is cute that is the only reason Oikawa answers his question, grateful that the darkness in the theatre covers up most of his flush. 

“You know how you asked if I bought anything when I went shopping and I said I did? Well, I’m wearing it right now and it’s making me a little uncomfortable,” he admits. 

Iwaizumi looks him up and down, searching for an obvious change in Oikawa’s appearance. “These are the clothes I laid out for you this morning so unless—”

He stops, eyebrows furrowing together as he realizes what Oikawa is talking about. 

“Are you serious?” he asks, voice dangerously low. 

“Y-yes,” Oikawa stutters.

“Then why the fuck are we sitting here watching this stupid movie?” Iwaizumi gestures vaguely to the screen. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa scolds with a laugh. “Gattaca is  _ not _ stupid.” 

“Come home with me. Please?” Iwaizumi asks, diverting the argument. “I’ll take such good care of you, make you feel so good,” he promises. 

A shiver runs up his spine at Iwaizumi’s promise. This is why he wore what he did, right? So that Iwaizumi could  _ see _ it? Oikawa nods quietly, but it’s not good enough for Iwaizumi.

“Let me hear you say it,” he prompts. 

“Take me home with you,” Oikawa whispers. 

Iwaizumi’s mouth is on him the moment the words are out in the air, teeth nipping at his bottom lip in a kiss that is not gentle or soft at all. His hands cup Oikawa’s jaw and he eventually pulls Oikawa towards him so that he’s straddling Iwaizumi in his seat. 

They’re lucky the theatre seats are so large, the room used for some of the more expensive viewings, anyway. 

Oikawa’s already half-hard in his pants and he’s mildly afraid that if Iwaizumi keeps grinding against him like he is that he’ll cum in his pants so he pulls away and places a hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth to stop his lips from wandering. 

“Not here,” Oikawa shakes his head. “Take me back to your place, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi groans in frustration but he thrusts up against Oikawa one last time before helping Oikawa down from his seat.

Oikawa’s so wrapped up in how Iwaizumi is turned on by him that he doesn’t even argue when Iwaizumi holds his hand and leads him out of the theatre towards the car.

“Iwaizumi-san?” Tanaka, his driver, asks when Iwaizumi raps against the window harshly. “Is something the matter? Your movie doesn’t end for another forty-five minutes,” he frowns. 

“I know when the movie ends,” Iwaizumi says irritably. “We’re going home.” 

Tanaka unlocks the back door and Iwaizumi holds it open for Oikawa to get in first. Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi’s desire exuding off of him. It’s evident in the way Iwaizumi huffs under his breath every few minutes, the way his fingers are tapping against his own knees impatiently, the way he stares out the window at the passing night time scenery to avoid looking at Oikawa. 

Oikawa’s sure Iwaizumi’s driver knows what’s going on but for the sake of appearances they both keep to themselves and he doesn’t pay them mind. 

By the time they’re dropped off in the front lobby Oikawa’s tense and Iwaizumi looks like one wrong comment will set him off. 

He must notice his behaviour because when the elevator door shuts he doesn’t press the button for the 40th floor.

“Oikawa, I want you to know that if you come up with me I have every intention of fucking you. If that’s not what you want, you can leave now and nothing will change between us,” he promises. 

His reassurance is enough for Oikawa. He runs a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair and pulls him close so that he can feel Oikawa’s want for him between them.

“I already made up my mind, Iwa-chan. I want you to fuck me,” he informs, flush appearing at the boldness of his words. 

Iwaizumi smiles at him and Oikawa’s inclined to think that maybe happiness is contagious—that maybe when Iwaizumi said he’s happy if Oikawa’s happy it wasn’t a lie because right now, Oikawa is sure feeling the effect of the statement in reverse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... you know what’s about to happen ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Oikawa doesn’t really know how long it’s been since they first got back to Iwaizumi’s penthouse but it has to be late because he’s already cum twice now and Iwaizumi was careful to take his time when stretching him out at first.

Iwaizumi was patient and sweet, loosening Oikawa up with his thick fingers as he distracted Oikawa with wet kisses. He kept asking if what they were doing was okay—if _Oikawa_  was okay—until Oikawa finally begged him to fuck him until he couldn’t walk.

But that was over an hour ago. Now, Oikawa’s tired and worn out, nearing on overstimulation but Iwaizumi's still got the stamina to keep going and Oikawa's not sure if he should be impressed or wary because Iwaizumi feels  _so fucking good_  but his body doesn’t want to keep up.

His eyes are starting to droop, his forearms are heavy with the weight of his body supporting him on all fours, and it doesn’t help that Iwaizumi has his face pressed between Oikawa’s cheeks, lapping at his entrance like it’s leaking honey.

It doesn’t hurt either though, if Oikawa’s being completely honest with himself, but he’s certainly not used to going at such a thorough pace.

“Iwa-chan, please, it’s too much,” Oikawa cries when he feels Iwaizumi's tongue slip inside him, tracing his walls.

Oikawa’s still wearing the lace teddy Akaashi made him buy, the open gusset giving Iwaizumi perfect access to his cock and his hole without ruining the lingerie.

“I could eat you out all fucking day,” Iwaizumi grunts from behind him.

He punctuates his comment by biting Oikawa's asscheek lightly. It’s one of many marks that Oikawa knows already litter his back. If Iwaizumi likes marking up his neck, it’s nothing compared to what he’s done to his behind.

But Oikawa can’t really find a problem in that, not when the blemishes are filled with desire for him. Iwaizumi's vocal in telling him what he loves about his body, how he wants to fuck him until he can’t move and take care of him after that.

Oikawa's in near tears and he’s pretty sure his reaction is adding to Iwaizumi's drive.

“Iwa-chan, I can’t take it anymore,” Oikawa whines.

Despite the fact that he’s cum twice already, his dick is heavy and begging to find another release. Oikawa knows Iwaizumi is too when he pulls his face out from between Oikawa's asscheeks only to run his hard length along the cleft teasingly.

“You want to cum?” Iwaizumi asks, leaning over Oikawa’s back.

“ _Yes_ ,” Oikawa moans.

He’d get himself off by rubbing against the sheets if it wasn’t for the fact that Oikawa knows Iwaizumi's going to fuck him again and he doesn’t think his body can handle cumming four times. It’s not possible, and he refuses to try.

“Who’s stopping you?” Iwaizumi asks.

He brings his hand around and tugs at Oikawa's cock slowly, thumb digging into his slit and spreading the pre-cum that pools out.

“No,  _please_ ,” Oikawa whines.

“But I’m giving you what you want,” Iwaizumi smirks, knowing full well that he isn’t.

Oikawa can practically feel his smile even though he can’t see him. He’s sort of grateful that he doesn’t have to come face to face with Iwaizumi's dominating gaze. It’s enough to just feel his strength and desire right now.

“Not like that,” Oikawa shakes his head. “Iwa-chan, I want—”

Iwaizumi suddenly thrusts against him, the length of his cock fitting tightly between Oikawa's cheeks. He holds Oikawa’s ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh so that it fits better against his hardness. It makes Oikawa stutter and forget what he was going to say until Iwaizumi slaps his ass lightly and brings him back to the present.

“Finish your sentence, baby. What do you want?”

“Fuck me with your cock. Make me cum,” Oikawa shivers.

“Good boy,” Iwaizumi grins, pressing a kiss to Oikawa's shoulder blade.

He reaches over and rips open a new condom, sliding it over himself efficiently. He’s been rimming Oikawa for ages so Oikawa's already wet from the mix of saliva and lube that was previously there but that doesn’t stop Iwaizumi from pouring more lube over his hole and fingering him quickly, using the extra liquid to slick himself up.

Iwaizumi grips Oikawa's hair and forces him to arch his back just as he slides inside in one swift motion, filling Oikawa to the hilt.

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa moans. “Feels good—feels  _so_ good,” he blubbers, barely able to catch his breath as Iwaizumi pistons his hips in a gruelling pace.

Iwaizumi fucks him hard and fast, unlike the first two times that night where he was gentler, more reserved. Now that he knows what Oikawa likes and can handle, he has no qualms about being rough. Oikawa thinks he likes being fucked like this better anyway, lights flashing before his eyes, breathing uneven. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, yeah, just like that,” Iwaizumi grunts.

Iwaizumi pushes Oikawa down until his arms collapse and his face is stuffed into the mattress. He grinds down, angling his hips until he can reach deep inside Oikawa. When Iwaizumi finds his prostate Oikawa's whole body convulses, and he involuntarily tightens around Iwaizumi's cock inside him.

God, Iwaizumi is so big and he fills Oikawa out unbelievably. Oikawa can feel the head of Iwaizumi’s cock bulging against his stomach with every thrust.

There’s more friction between the drags now and Iwaizumi's pace starts to grow more erratic. Oikawa’s own cock is trapped beneath the sheets and the navy lace, leaking every time Iwaizumi pounds into him.

Oikawa's whole body is tense, he can barely think let alone move. But when Iwaizumi rides out his orgasm inside him, he thinks the climax is definitely worth it. Iwaizumi’s wearing a condom so Oikawa can’t fully appreciate what he feels like but he can still sense the warmth of Iwaizumi's seed through the latex and the thought of what it might be like to have his stomach filled with it makes Oikawa orgasm with a cry.

He’s close to tears when Iwaizumi finally pulls out and turns him around, chest red from the earlier constriction.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asks gently, moving Oikawa's sweaty hair away from his forehead.

“Mmm,” Oikawa nods. “But I don’t think I can keep up with Iwa-chan’s monstrous strength,” he laughs feebly.

Iwaizumi flushes hard, but he looks pleased to know that Oikawa is okay. “I promise that was it for the night.”

“It better have been,” Oikawa teases.

His legs feel like jelly and he knows he should clean up but he’s so tired he’d rather just fall asleep. Iwaizumi notices his turmoil and presses a kiss to his nose, promising to come back in a few minutes.

Oikawa's curled up in himself, eyes fluttering shut by the time Iwaizumi enters the room with a wet towel that he uses to wipe Oikawa down.

“As much as I love this, I think you’d be more comfortable with it off,” Iwaizumi pulls at the strap of the teddy, snapping it against Oikawa's left arm.

Oikawa huffs at Iwaizumi's teasing but his annoyance is short-lived when Iwaizumi helps him take it off then brings him a fresh pair of clothes to sleep in. He picks just the boxers and a t-shirt, opting out of the pants because he’s still warm and the sheets will cover his legs up anyway.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Iwaizumi asks again, gazing at Oikawa worriedly.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me,” Oikawa smiles.

Iwaizumi doesn’t look convinced and it’s cute that he can be so doting in the moments after sex. He’s not an ungenerous lover, but Oikawa's happy to know that he’s also a caring one.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Iwaizumi promises, tugging the covers over them.

“For what?” Oikawa asks. “That was good for me too. You don’t have to give me something in return,” he laughs

Oikawa turns around so he can face Iwaizumi properly, hand coming up to rest across Iwaizumi’s muscled chest.

“I know, but still,” Iwaizumi argues, pressing a kiss to Oikawa’s cheek.

Oikawa’s sleepy and Iwaizumi’s warm so he drops the argument, telling himself he’ll pick it up tomorrow.

He knows he’ll be sore when he wakes up but that’s nothing new. Maybe more so than usual because of how long it’s been since Oikawa last had sex but he’s not new to this and so Iwaizumi has nothing to worry about.

Still, when Iwaizumi wraps a protective arm around Oikawa, fingers brushing softly over his back, Oikawa feels warmth spread through him at the realization that he’s cared about.

He falls asleep peacefully for the second night in row.

When he wakes up the next morning, Iwaizumi's already gone. In his place, there’s a note on the nightstand on Oikawa's side of the bed.

_Oikawa—I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye but I didn’t want to wake you._  
_There’s a spa voucher on the back of this paper._  
_Please think of it as an apology for being so rough with you last night._  
_I’ll see you soon._  
_– Iwaizumi_

Oikawa turns the note around to see that there is in fact a voucher for ¥60,000 taped to the back.

He’s stares, stunned at the price and the fact that Iwaizumi was so quick to follow through on his promise.

Oikawa's never been to a spa before, only seen them on Western movies. The closest thing he’s come to is the onsen trip in his second year of high school that was paid for by their volleyball coach as a treat for them making it to the prefectural finals.

What is he even supposed to do with this much money? Oikawa's not sure what kind of places Iwaizumi frequents that have such high costs but Oikawa's pretty sure his coach didn’t even have to pay that amount for a team of boys and Iwaizumi's just giving him this much money for one person alone.

After contemplating how strange this is for an hour, Oikawa finally rolls out of bed. He has to work tonight but that’s not until 6 pm so he has a few hours to relax considering he slept in till almost 11 am.

Oikawa hates sleeping in; it makes him feel like he’s wasting time but he knows he needed the rest if his slow movements and sore  _everything_ are anything to go by.

The clothes Oikawa wore yesterday are hung up for him in the bathroom, the smell of fresh detergent indicating that they’ve been washed. Oikawa knows for a fact that Iwaizumi wasn’t home until later that night, Oikawa in tow, so he concludes that his suspicions about Iwaizumi having cleaning staff is correct.

When he comes downstairs, dressed, he sees for himself that his suspicions are true.

“You must be Oikawa-kun,” a middle-aged woman greets. “Iwaizumi-san said to expect you. I’m sorry if I woke you up,” she apologizes.

She was so silent Oikawa didn’t even know she was here until he came downstairs so there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s awkward being spoken to so formally or  _informally_ , considering no one has used the ‘kun’ honorific after his name in a long time, unless it’s meant to remind him that he’s surrounded by affluent individuals at work.

But the woman doesn’t seem to have any ill intentions and Oikawa supposes her age gives her the right to call him that. Besides, he’s been mistaken as younger many times before, which doesn’t help in this situation but doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Oikawa waves off.

The woman hums, beckoning Oikawa into the kitchen. “Iwaizumi-san said you were fond of milk bread,” she gestures to a freshly baked loaf.

“Did you bake this?” he asks, taking a seat at the bar.

“Yes, and feel free to have as much as you’d like. Iwaizumi-san isn’t very fond of sweets.”

Oikawa can’t help but think she talks about  _Iwaizumi-san_  a lot but the jealousy is short lived when he realizes that the only reason this woman speaks so fondly about him is because Iwaizumi is a good employer. Oikawa’s filled with a sort of pride at the thought because it just reconfirms his own conclusion on how Iwaizumi is a good person.

When Oikawa finishes his breakfast, Iwaizumi's cook and housecleaner is nowhere to be found so he leaves the apartment with a shouted goodbye just in case.

“Oikawa-kun?”

Oikawa looks up at the elevator doors that open and almost has a heart attack when Fujiyama-san walks in. His eyes find the screen above the doors that reads the floor number and he can see that they’re stopped on the 37th floor.

Somehow, Oikawa doubts that a man like Fujiyama Ikuo lives anywhere but the top floor of any residence he owns. Oikawa's pretty sure he has a custom built house overlooking the port in Minato, anyway.

“Fujiyama-san,” Oikawa bows politely, face heating up.

Oikawa can’t believe the one person he  _didn’t_  want to run into was here, dressed in a navy button up with the top two buttons undone tucked into a pair of black slacks and matching black dress shoes.

His salt and pepper moustache and the sharp angles of his face make Fujiyama-san an intimidating man on his own. Paired with his impeccable style, Oikawa feels himself shrivel in his presence.

“There’s no need to be so formal,” the man laughs. “We aren’t at work,” he reassures.

Oikawa nods and looks back up but avoids eye contact, which is difficult when Fujiyama-san is an inch shorter than him and is very obviously trying to find his gaze. Oikawa curses his curiosity when he turns his head ever so slightly and finds his eyes locked on Fujiyama-san’s piercing dark brown ones.

“I heard a funny story the other day about Kawasaki and Watanabe harassing one of my employees. That wasn’t you, was it?” he asks.

Oikawa doesn’t know why he’s asking when it’s clear from his tone of voice that he very well knows it was Oikawa they were harassing. He catches the floor they’re on: 22nd. Can this elevator move any quicker?

“I’m not sure I would classify it as harassing…” Oikawa says unsurely, fidgeting with his arm.

He doesn’t know what kind of response Fujiyama-san is looking for but apparently, that’s not it.

“Don’t be modest,” he says curtly. “If anyone harasses you, you will tell me, but unless these people expect to remain my friends rest assured that it will not happen again.”

Oikawa doesn’t know who he is trying to convince but the air is chilly and he’s starting to feel more than just awkward; now he’s uncomfortable. Fujiyama-san isn’t angry with him but he  _is_  angry and that alone is enough to make the tiny hairs on the back of Oikawa's neck rise.

“Thank you, Fujiyama-san,” Oikawa says quietly.

His gratitude causes the older man to put on his façade once again.

“Well, I expect Iwaizumi is taking good care of you so you don’t really need my reassurance,” he chuckles.

Oikawa freezes, the comment taking him by surprise. The elevator door opens up to the lobby and Fujiyama-san walks out with a short wave to Oikawa, leaving him to mull over the ambiguous statement.

The doors close after Fujiyama-san walks out and only when the elevator starts to move up does Oikawa realize he had missed his floor. He hastily presses the next available floor and takes the stairs down, feeling somewhat angry that Iwaizumi lied to him about not telling Fujiyama-san.

Sure, they’re friends but Oikawa asked him not to and he  _agreed_.

And he claimed he doesn’t lie, which just riles Oikawa up even more.

Whatever issues he had about spending so much of Iwaizumi's money pampering himself for the day disappears with that thought. Oikawa calls himself a cab and asks the driver to take him to the address displayed on the voucher.

Some of his discomfort starts to come back when he gets out of the cab and stares at the glass doors of the spa entrance. The driver has already driven off so Oikawa's quick chance at changing his mind are gone.

He supposes he can call another one but he’s already here and he has to admit that he  _is_  sore. A massage sounds like a great idea, even if he’s starting to feel guilty about the reason why he’s putting Iwaizumi's gift to use.

Oikawa doesn’t see  _why_  he feels bad when this is what Iwaizumi intended for Oikawa to do, but it probably has to do with Oikawa’s intentions behind it.

When the manager sees that Oikawa has a gift voucher, she gets excited and orders Oikawa treatments he can’t even pronounce let alone remember. He’s led off to change and put in the hands of a woman who tries to explain to him what each treatment is for, not that he really knows what she’s talking about but he lets her go on anyway.

Halfway through his Swedish massage Oikawa thinks that whatever his reason for coming here, this was totally worth it. He’s never felt so  _relaxed_  and this is just the beginning.

He spends a good four hours between soaking in a large tub that could just as well be a pool, having oils poured and massaged into his back and legs, and sitting in a room with tea tree scented diffusers while his face is massaged with exfoliators and creams.

Oikawa's been lucky to have good skin for most of his life but even he has to admit that when he takes a look at himself in the mirror after he’s back in the change room to mark the end of his spa day, he looks way better than he could have imagined.

And he  _feels_  better too, physically. But he still leaves the spa with an unmistakable guilt that won’t go away with the gift basket he’s given to take back as a take-home gift.

Oikawa decides he’ll give it to Akaashi; at least that way he won’t have to look at it and be reminded of his mixed feelings.

* * *

“Oikawa-kun.”

Oikawa perks up when his name is called by Ito, the restaurant manager. They’re being assigned their sections for the night’s shift, which is just a formality at this point. The sections don’t change unless they’re the important ones on the second floor but those are usually rotated between a few servers and Oikawa is not one of them.

“Yes!” Oikawa announces his presence.

“You’ll be taking the third section on the second floor,” his manager says, reading off of his list.

“Yes…” Oikawa nods, waiting for the man to fix his mistake.

When he doesn't, Oikawa can feel the unmistakable stare of his co-workers on him. The only way to be able to serve on the second floor is if you personally know Fujiyama-san, which isn’t always the greatest insinuation. It’s a better position but it comes with the caveat of everyone knowing you’re not the most innocent of people.

Oikawa doesn’t know why he’s been chosen for this and he feels like he’s being punished. His stiff conversation with Fujiyama-san from the elevator in Iwaizumi's building comes back to haunt Oikawa and he feels his heart lodge itself in his throat.

“Looks like you’re no better than a whore after all,” Nakamura whispers under his breath from next to Oikawa.

It’s not quite loud enough that Ito, standing on the podium, can hear but it  _is_  loud enough that anyone standing in a five-foot radius from Nakamura makes a surprised noise at the comment.

Nakamura often serves on the second floor and tonight, Oikawa's replaced him, so he can see that his co-worker is angry but that is no excuse for him to say such mean things about Oikawa,  _especially_  when they’re not true.

 _Aren’t they though_ , the voice in the back of his mind reminds him.

Oikawa blinks back the angry tears and clenches his hand to his side in order to not visibly show his distress. He blocks out the sounds around him, waiting for their meeting to end so he can go and do his job.

“Okay, you  _have_  to let me do something to that little shit now,” Akaashi hisses angrily as soon as they’re dismissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is making accusations like that? His mother’s the only whore we know around here,” Akaashi says, just loud enough for Nakamura to hear as he walks by them.

Nakamura tenses but otherwise doesn’t comment. It’s unwise to make a scene before the restaurant is even due to open and as petty as Nakamura may be, he’s smarter than that.

“It’s fine,” Oikawa says stiffly.

He doesn’t want to get Akaashi in trouble. His friend is loyal and won’t think about the possibility of losing his job to defend Oikawa but Oikawa doesn’t want that from him.  

“It’s  _not_  fine,” Akaashi argues. “I don’t care who his father is because in here, he’s just another server and I think it’s about high time he learns it. Who does he think the orders for sections comes from anyway? He’s clearly outlived his usefulness and should take that up with his dad instead!”

“Shh, Akaashi, it's okay!” Oikawa whispers before someone else hears.

It’s nice to know that someone will stand up for him and truth be told Akaashi’s support is all that Oikawa needs in this place.

He makes Akaashi promise not to do anything rash before they depart for their sections and set up the tables in lieu of the crowd arriving at 7 pm.

The night starts off like it usually does, quiet at first but busier once Kabukicho really comes to life. The Blue Crystal doesn’t open until 7 pm but it also doesn’t close until 2 am and there are always plenty of people near the end of the night.

Oikawa distracts himself in his work, all smiles and polite attitude and it works for a while. But then Iwaizumi walks upstairs with two other men and is seated right in Oikawa's section. They sit around a semi-circular booth with a mahogany table covered in a rich maroon tablecloth and matching leather backing. Iwaizumi sits to the right of where Oikawa stands at the perfect angle to stare at him while Oikawa speaks.

“Welcome to the Blue Crystal. My name is Oikawa Tooru and I will be your server today. Is there anything I can get you to drink to start?” he asks, practiced speech almost mechanical now.

“Three whiskey sours,” a man with unruly black hair answers.

“Will there be anything else?” Oikawa asks.

“No,” Iwaizumi shakes his head, eyes sliding over Oikawa’s figure.

Oikawa nods and returns downstairs to place the order at the bar.

He tries to avoid eye contact with Iwaizumi the next time he comes up to take their orders for food, but it’s hard to do that when he has to speak to the man directly. Iwaizumi frowns when Oikawa's expression remains rigid, his attitude disengaged.

Maybe if Oikawa continues to act this way someone will notice and tell the manager; at least then he can return to his usual section on the first floor and not have to deal with the questioning stares.

“Oikawa-kun, twice in one day. I’m a lucky man indeed,” Fujiyama-san greets when Oikawa comes up to place the food on the table.

He’s on the left side of the table, Iwaizumi's two companions having scooted over to the middle to make room for the boss.

“Apologies, Fujiyama-san, I wasn’t aware that you’d be joining today. Is there something I can get for you?” Oikawa asks, immediately perking up.

“I’ll get myself a drink, don’t worry. I’m only here to greet my friends,” he gestures around the table.

“Twice in one day?” Iwaizumi asks.

By the looks of it, he didn’t mean to ask that question aloud. Fujiyama-san grins at Iwaizumi, not unkindly.

“Yes, I ran into him this morning. I’m sorry if it was awkward to speak with me outside of work,” he apologizes.

To Oikawa's relief, he doesn’t mention where he saw Oikawa but Iwaizumi's trying to think hard about it, sharp crease appearing between his brows.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Fujiyama-san,” Oikawa says embarrassedly. “It’s an honour to be in your presence.”

“Polite,” Fujiyama-san nods. “I think I’ll ask Ito to keep your up here,” he hums.

“It would be my pleasure, Fujiyama-san,” Oikawa bows his head.

When he looks up, the boss nods at him once before he picks a conversation with Iwaizumi's companions on their food of choice. Oikawa's about to dismiss himself when he feels Iwaizumi's hand on his leg and he’s forced to look down at him.

The tablecloth covers Iwaizumi's hands but Oikawa's flushed face is a different story. Iwaizumi is unperturbed by Oikawa's embarrassment. His hand trails up Oikawa's leg, dangerously close to his crotch, before he pulls away entirely.

“Excuse me, I’m going to step out for a smoke,” Iwaizumi says to the men around him.

Oikawa forgets to step to the side and give Iwaizumi the room to leave until the man puts his hand on Oikawa's shoulder and nudges him lightly. Oikawa wishes he could hide his face, especially when he catches Fujiyama-san’s smile at the display.

He definitely knows but now Oikawa's not entirely sure it was Iwaizumi who told him about it.

Oikawa hurries down to the first floor before he can further reveal his embarrassment.

“Ito-san, can I take my break?” Oikawa asks, returning to the staff room.

“Fine, but nothing more than fifteen minutes. And let Shimoda know to cover for you in your absence,” he says gruffly.

Oikawa shoots him a smile and relays the manager’s instructions to his co-worker before he rushes outside to find Iwaizumi.

Just like he said, Iwaizumi's smoking, hands crossed over his chest and unhappy expression on his face. He has the top two buttons of his button up undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his toned forearms. The colour of his shirt matches his eyes and even in the dim lighting of the streetlights, Oikawa can see that it’s a good colour on him.

There’s a patio on the second floor the overlooks the bright night life of Kabukicho where most of the patrons choose to go for a smoke but Iwaizumi keeps to himself in the back alley. Oikawa doesn’t understand why he wants to stand out here,  _alone_ , when he could be up there with much better company but right now, he’s grateful for the quiet.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks hesitantly.

Iwaizumi looks up to find Oikawa and grunts in greeting but otherwise doesn’t look enthusiastic to see him at all, which is a huge change from last night.

A part of Oikawa is still angry with Iwaizumi, not entirely convinced that he  _didn’t_  tell Fujiyama-san, but Iwaizumi’s dismissal hurts and Oikawa wants him to take it back.

“What were you thinking about? You didn’t even hear me come out here, you were so deep in thought,” Oikawa says in an attempt to lighten the mood.

If anything, it just makes the situation worse.

Iwaizumi takes a deep drag of his cigarette and holds the smoke in for longer than is probably necessary, releasing it all in one short puff.

“Do you have some kind of an agreement with Fujiyama-san?” Iwaizumi asks bluntly.

“ _What_?” Oikawa asks, startled by the question and the ferocity behind Iwaizumi's words.

“Because it’s fine if you do but it’s kind of a shitty thing for you to hide it from me,” Iwaizumi continues.

“Oh my god,  _no_ , what are you even talking about?” Oikawa questions.

_Does Iwaizumi think he’s sleeping with Fujiyama-san?_

“He said he saw you this morning,” Iwaizumi reminds.

“Yeah,” Oikawa agrees, “as I was leaving your penthouse. The elevator stopped on the 37th floor and he got in. I don’t know why you’re even upset about that and jumping to conclusions. If anything, I should be angry with you!” Oikawa accuses.

“What did I do?” Iwaizumi demands angrily.

In the past few days, it’s been easy for Oikawa to forget just what kind of a commanding presence Iwaizumi has. He knows the older man is intimidating and surly when he wants to be but right now, with his jaw clenched, fingers trying not to crush the lit cigarette between them, Iwaizumi looks downright terrifying.

Oikawa knows—hopes—he won’t hurt him but the potential that he  _could_  is very real.

“Aside from the fact that you just accused me of sleeping around, you said you wouldn’t tell Fujiyama-san about us,” Oikawa reminds, voice suddenly small.

“And you think I did,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “I told you this before and I’ll repeat it for you once more but I will not say it again after this. I am  _not_  a liar. I have  _always_  kept my word no matter the circumstance,” he says bitterly.

This time, Oikawa knows there’s a hidden meaning behind his statement. Whatever it is that changes Iwaizumi's entire demeanour when accused of lying must be big for him to use such a fierce tone.

Oikawa feels guilty for bringing it up but above all, he feels childish for thinking that just because he lets Iwaizumi fuck him that he can talk to him like they’re equals. Iwaizumi just accused Oikawa of getting by life sleeping with powerful people and yet, he’s the one feeling guilty.

His face falls, arms crossed protectively around his chest. He feels so small, so  _insignificant_ , and Oikawa didn’t realize how important Iwaizumi’s opinion has become in the few weeks they’ve known one another. Aside from the hurt, he’s angry that Iwaizumi would say something like that to him. He’s  _not_  a bad person and he’s allowed to do as he pleases yet Iwaizumi’s judgement makes him want to cry.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi apologizes, regaining his senses. “Fuck, that was so inappropriate of me to say.”

It was more than just inappropriate but Oikawa did accuse him of doing something he didn’t do so he just nods and says, “It’s okay,” but he’s not sure he really means it.

Iwaizumi catches on, snuffing out the cigarette and taking a step closer to Oikawa. Oikawa lets him put his hands around his shoulders, stiffness subsiding as Iwaizumi slides his hands down his arms until he has Oikawa's hands clasped in his. They’re big and warm, slightly calloused but still gentle in their own way.

It’s such a contrast to Iwaizumi's demeanour from only a few moments ago that Oikawa's unsure what to think.

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa's left hand and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckle before whispering, “I’m really sorry, please forgive me. I was jealous and that’s no excuse because I shouldn’t have said what I did to you, regardless.”

The admission that he was jealous of Oikawa seeing someone else shouldn’t be as flattering as it is but it softens Oikawa up. He knows Iwaizumi isn’t using it to manipulate him into forgiving him and that’s the only reason Oikawa relaxes, heart beating faster at the ridiculous thought that a man like Iwaizumi Hajime was  _jealous_.

Over  _him_.

“Iwa-chan, it’s okay.” This time, Oikawa knows he does mean his words. “I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you when you said you wouldn’t tell Fujiyama-san,” Oikawa apologizes sheepishly.

“I promise you I didn’t say anything,” Iwaizumi says.

“I know that now,” Oikawa reassures. “How do you think he found out?” he asks unsurely.

“Come on, Oikawa. Nothing changes around here without Fujiyama-san knowing,” Iwaizumi says bluntly, “especially when it comes to his associates and his employees.”

Now that Iwaizumi's put it like that, Oikawa thinks he was naïve to think otherwise. Of course Fujiyama-san would know what’s going on with the people around him. No matter how unimportant Oikawa thinks he is in Fujiyama-san’s circle, Iwaizumi is at the centre and that’s all that matters. He feels stupid for having accusing Iwaizumi of lying.

But their conversation opens up a curiosity in Oikawa he didn’t know he had about Iwaizumi. He knows this isn’t the right time to ask why Iwaizumi gets so worked up about being called a liar—not that it’s a nice thing to be accused of—but he stores that for another time.

“I was right though. I told you he wouldn’t care,” Iwaizumi smiles, distracting Oikawa.

“He made me serve on the second floor today,” Oikawa pouts.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a promotion?” Iwaizumi laughs.

“That’s the point: what if he’s testing me? What if he’s waiting for me to fail so he has an excuse to fire me?” Oikawa panics.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, “quit overthinking. Nothing bad is going to happen,” he promises.

“Okay,” Oikawa sighs deeply.

He has a bad habit of imagining and believing the worst outcome even before all the options have been presented. But Iwaizumi's deep conviction is reassuring and manages to calm Oikawa down a little.

“You know how you asked me what I was thinking about when you came out here?” Iwaizumi says slowly, tugging at his hands so that they’re chest to chest. 

Oikawa nods, suddenly flustered by the proximity. It’s strange because just that morning they were sharing a bed half naked and  _this_  is what makes Oikawa nervous. He tries no to think about the logic behind it because he’s convinced it isn’t there.

“Well, half of it I told you already. The other half was about how fucking cute you look in this stupid uniform and how I can’t wait for your shift to be over so I can rip it off you,” he grins.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa scolds, mortified by his boldness.

“I’m serious, look at this damn thing,” Iwaizumi gestures to his black tie, tugging on it for good measure.

It’s a nice outfit, much better than his old uniform at the Italian bistro he used to work at. This one is just a pair of black slacks, a white button up, a black vest thrown over it and a black tie. It’s simple and not colourful, which is definitely a bonus. Sometimes, Oikawa has to wear a bowtie for the more formal events but today’s not one of those days.

“I think I need a few days to recover from last night though,” Oikawa admits sheepishly, averting his eyes.

Iwaizumi smiles at Oikawa's bashfulness. He presses a kiss to Oikawa’s cheek and smooths the blush down with his hands. “Guess those fantasies will have to wait for another time.”

He makes such embarrassing comments with such ease that Oikawa's left stunned every single time. Oikawa’s so distracted by Iwaizumi’s words that he doesn’t even notice Iwaizumi leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips until he feels something warm and wet against him. Oikawa sighs into the touch, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi's neck securely.

They only break apart when the door to the back alley opens up and Akaashi steps out, disapproving stare directed at Oikawa.

“You’re thirty seconds away from your fifteen minutes being up,” he reminds.

“I have to go,” Oikawa says to Iwaizumi sadly.

Not like it makes much of a difference because he’ll see Iwaizumi inside too. But they’re more formal when they’re surrounded by other people as opposed to when they’re alone. Oikawa knows the front on both ends is a precaution for them but lately, whenever Oikawa sees Iwaizumi he’s overcome with the urge to jump him.

“I’ll see you later,” Iwaizumi says, words holding a promise rather than a simple greeting.

He slaps Oikawa's ass when he thinks Akaashi isn’t looking, teasing smirk looking good enough to make Oikawa lose some of his belligerence at being surprised like that.

“Wow, he’s really into you,” Akaashi whispers when they’re on their way to the kitchen to check if their orders are complete, “or should I say, he’s into your ass. Don’t think I didn’t notice what he just did there and the fact that you’re walking stiffly,” Akaashi chuckles, ducking away from Oikawa's swatting hand.

“Shut up!” Oikawa hisses, mortified by his friend’s cheek.

He supposes he deserves it though. Deep down, Oikawa's satisfaction at having caught the eye of someone like Iwaizumi Hajime overcomes any embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of support this fic has received has honestly blown me away. All I can say is thank you so much to everyone who's read it up till now! <3 <3
> 
> And let's be real, who doesn't want a sugar daddy Iwaizumi? I know I do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! <3

Iwaizumi taps the back of his pen against the stack of papers he has lying on his desk absentmindedly. He needs to read and sign them to get the new project going but he’s irrevocably distracted and it’s all Oikawa’s fault.

He saw Oikawa that morning before leaving, giving him a ride back to his apartment because he insisted he needed to work on his school projects.

Iwaizumi doesn’t see why Oikawa wants to work out of such a disruptive location, especially when he’s met Oikawa’s roommate and immediately formed a dislike for the rude, messy man so he suggested Oikawa take his school work back to Iwaizumi’s and do it there.

After all, he has been spending most of his nights at Iwaizumi’s and it’s just an inconvenience for both of them at this point.

Iwaizumi doesn't want Oikawa to have to keep going back and forth between their apartments and it’s clear that Oikawa doesn’t want to go back to his own place either.

But Iwaizumi also doesn’t want Oikawa to feel pressured into staying with him so he keeps that option open for Oikawa to decide when he wants, all the while trying to make it as obvious as he can without explicitly saying that he wants Oikawa around.

Iwaizumi can’t help that he’s charmed by Oikawa. Everything about him is interesting, from his fiery personality to his determined focused. Oikawa’s young and cute and makes Iwaizumi want to do things he hasn’t ever wanted to do before.

He brings a burst of sunshine with him wherever he goes and as cheesy as it sounds, Iwaizumi’s found that his mood clears up whenever Oikawa’s in his presence.

Even when Oikawa’s upset about something Iwaizumi finds him attractive. He often zones out when Oikawa’s lips are pulled up into a pout and his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. His cheeks turn pink and so does the tip of his nose from the frustration that burns across his skin.

Oikawa’s got lots of moods and Iwaizumi’s fond of them all.

Although he’s not sure what to think of this mischievous side. Especially when this entails Oikawa sending Iwaizumi a picture of himself with his hand down his pants, t-shirt pulled up with his teeth to expose his toned stomach and a caption that reads,  _‘I miss Iwa-chan so much.’_

He’s lying in Iwaizumi’s bed, the outline of his cock visible through his— _Iwaizumi’s_ —sweatpants. Iwaizumi hates that he can’t actually  _see_  anything more but he knows that it’s probably a blessing in disguise.

If he’s this worked up about the mere thought of potentially seeing Oikawa naked, he doesn’t know how he’d react if he’d actually gotten what he’s imagining.

Iwaizumi’s already scrutinized the photo over a dozen times and replied with a  _‘Don’t you have work to do?’_  but Oikawa hasn’t responded since and it’s putting him on edge.

He resists the urge to look at his phone and see if he’s just missed a message from Oikawa. He knows he hasn’t because he has his volume turned up to max and the vibrate setting on too.

He should hear it when Oikawa texts him back, but it’s been thirty minutes since Iwaizumi replied and Oikawa’s been silent.

The logical answer is that he really is doing his homework but in the two and a half weeks that Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa, he doesn’t think that it’s possible for him to focus on something for this long, especially when the alternative is to tease Iwaizumi.

He knows he should probably give Oikawa more credit, but he’s anxious and he  _can’t believe_  that he’s anxious, which is just making the situation worse.

There’s a knock on his office door that makes Iwaizumi jerk up in his desk chair, pen snapping in half between his fingers as the door opens to reveal Kuroo.

“Long day?” Kuroo asks, raising an eyebrow at Iwaizumi’s obvious discomfort.

“Something like that,” Iwaizumi groans.

He throws the broken pen into the trashbin and waves Kuroo in.

“I take that it has something to do with Oikawa then,” Kuroo concludes.

He takes a seat on the black leather couch that overlooks the far window in Iwaizumi’s office and spreads out, not bothering to take off his shoes before he puts his feet up.

Iwaizumi scowls at Kuroo’s behaviour but he doesn’t make a move to correct his error.

Kuroo Tetsurou is not only the Director of Engineering Operations within Iwaizumi’s company but also Iwaizumi’s close, childhood friend. His aptitude for the job and his direct manner of speaking both give him the privilege to act and say as he pleases in front of Iwaizumi.

“What do you want?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Nothing, I’m bored,” Kuroo shrugs.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of work for you to do,” Iwaizumi reminds.

“I know that,” Kuroo laughs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be bored. Come on, don’t be such a stick in the mud and let me talk to you. I’m on my break.”

Iwaizumi makes a sound of acknowledgement, though even he’s not sure if he really means it.

A part of him wants to tell Kuroo to leave so he can look at his phone again. Another part is grateful for his presence so that he  _doesn’t_  bind himself further into this feeling of frustration.

His phone goes off and he reaches for it without a second thought, anyway.

It’s Oikawa again and Iwaizumi’s so preoccupied with wondering what his reply is going to be that he ignores Kuroo’s presence, eyes focusing on the message in front of him.

He’s pretty sure that if anyone can give him an early heart attack, it’s Oikawa Tooru. Instead of a proper response his reply consists of another picture, this time with his pants off, ass in the air, three fingers deep inside him. He captions it with  _‘Doesn’t feel as good as Iwa-chan but it’ll have to do for now.’_

Unbelievable. Not only did Oikawa completely ignore Iwaizumi’s question on why he isn’t doing his homework, but he’s managed to make Iwaizumi hard at work.

Iwaizumi has half a mind to go home. Or maybe bring Oikawa here and fuck him over his desk. Iwaizumi wonders what Oikawa would say if he pressed him against his office window and pounded into him for the world below to see.

“ _Damn_ ,” Kuroo whistles, startling Iwaizumi back to reality.

He finds Kuroo leaning over his right shoulder, eyes glued to Iwaizumi’s phone screen where the picture of Oikawa is still up and perfectly visible. Iwaizumi stands up and shoves him away, which only adds to Kuroo's amusement.

“What the fuck?” Iwaizumi growls, locking his phone. “Delete that.”

“I don’t have a picture,” Kuroo chuckles.

“Delete that from your mind,” Iwaizumi snarls.

“Fine,” Kuroo holds his hands up in defence.

He’s smiling like he wants to say something else and Iwaizumi resigns himself for an afternoon of teasing. It’s only 1 pm; he still has the rest of the day to go and one of his late afternoon commitments includes a meeting with his company’s Board of Directors. He can’t show up distracted to that but here he is, thinking about Oikawa instead.

Lately, that’s been a constant in his day. He wakes up with Oikawa, spends the rest of the day thinking about him, and brings Oikawa back to his place by the end of the night. Sure, they do things in between, but he’s always  _with_  Oikawa and frankly, Iwaizumi doesn’t see that as a bad thing.

Maybe an inconvenience now though when he really should be focusing on his day ahead instead of what it might be like if Oikawa was here and sucking him off underneath his desk.

“So… that’s what he’s like when it’s just the two of you, huh? No wonder you’re so in love with your new boy toy,” Kuroo grins.

And there it is, the beginning of the teasing comments.

“Don’t call him that. And what do you mean  _new_?” he asks tetchily.

Iwaizumi's never done this before; never actively seen someone for longer than a week. He’s also never slept with a man so much younger than him and while he knows Oikawa is of age and consenting, Kuroo's nonchalance starts to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Well, he is a  _boy_ ,” Kuroo starts, “and from that picture, I can guarantee he’s willing to be your—”

“Unless you plan on keeping your job, I suggest you don’t finish that sentence,” Iwaizumi says flatly.

Kuroo shrugs like he knows he doesn’t have to finish that sentence for Iwaizumi to get the gist of it. Unfortunately, Iwaizumi does.

“Why do you have to insist on making everything sound disgusting?” Iwaizumi sighs.

“Not everything,” Kuroo laughs. “Just with you and you know that’s only because you’re my best friend. Who else is going to get you to let loose? Actually…”

Kuroo trails off but the wicked grin gracing his features says that it was completely intentional. He just wants to put ideas in Iwaizumi's head and Iwaizumi hates to admit that he’s succeeded; there are definitely plenty of ideas running through his head right now.

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi curses.

Kuroo hums in agreement, like he doesn’t quite believe him. He has every right to be so cocky; without Kuroo, Iwaizumi isn’t sure he would have been able to take over his father’s company and continue to lead it. He’s a pretty modest guy if he says so himself, but he thinks he’s doing an even better job than his father had, if the current revenues are anything to go by.

Part of it has to do with Kuroo's guidance. Iwaizumi trusts him implicitly and Kuroo's loyalty is something that Iwaizumi has never questioned—doesn’t think he’ll ever be given a reason to question it.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Kuroo asks.

“No, but I’m not eating with you after that display,” Iwaizumi says stubbornly.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to offer,” he laughs. “Why don't you ask Oikawa to come here and have lunch with you so you’re not all worked up for the meeting this afternoon. Can’t have everyone thinking the boss doesn’t know what he’s doing, right?”

He knows that Kuroo's suggestion has a double meaning and he hates that his friend can read him so well. He hates the fact that he tells Kuroo that’s a good idea even more, but Iwaizumi's never been one to withhold praise where it is deserved.

“Shall I tell Shimizu not to bother you then?” Kuroo asks.

“ _Please_ ,” Iwaizumi flushes.

His personal assistant may be as stoic as they come, but even he doesn’t want to witness the embarrassment of having to see her again if she walks in on him having sex.

Kuroo bids him a goodbye until their meeting and Iwaizumi's left alone with only his thoughts to distract him. He finds no shame in picking up his phone and calling Oikawa's number.

 _“I was wondering how many pictures I’d have to send before you called me,”_  Oikawa greets.

“Fuck, Oikawa, I’m at work,” Iwaizumi replies.

 _“So… you don’t want me to keep sending you pictures?”_  he asks.

Iwaizumi can hear the disappointment in his voice and he almost laughs at how ridiculous Oikawa is if he thinks Iwaizumi doesn’t enjoy his nudes. The problem here is how much he  _does_  enjoy them.

“That’s not what I said,” Iwaizumi confirms.

 _“Iwa-chan, when will you come home? I’m so hard and lonely,”_  he sighs.

“Did you have lunch yet?” Iwaizumi asks, motoring on despite Oikawa's uncanny ability to make him lose his train of thought.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line and for a few seconds Iwaizumi thinks that Oikawa's hung up on him.

 _“No…”_  Oikawa admits,  _“but, Iwa-chan I hope you know I’m trying to talk dirty to you and you’re ruining the mood by asking about lunch,”_ Oikawa informs, the slightest bit of annoyance coming through in his tone.

Iwaizumi laughs at his indignation but he sobers up when he hears Oikawa  _tch_  on the other side of the line.

“Why don’t you just come here and I’ll fill you up,” Iwaizumi says seriously.

Oikawa's silent again; Iwaizumi can hear shuffling on Oikawa's end.

 _“Are you serious?”_  Oikawa asks.

“Yes.”

 _“Okay!”_  Oikawa says, perking up.

“I’ll send Tanaka to get you,” Iwaizumi informs.

He waits for Oikawa's confirmation before he hangs up, suddenly filled with suspense. It’ll be at least thirty minutes before Oikawa gets here so he has the time to be productive but Iwaizumi thinks it’s even less likely that he’ll focus on his work until Oikawa arrives.

Iwaizumi distracts himself with clearing up some of the documents he has on his desk, careful to keep the confidential ones hidden. He doesn’t think Oikawa will take them but he does have a duty to his clients and even in his haze of lust Iwaizumi is responsible enough not to put a dent in his reputation.

At least, not another one, though he maintains that the last time was not his fault, nor something he could have predicted.

But he’s learned his lesson once and he’s not going to make the same mistake twice, even if he trusts Oikawa.

His office is in a private corner of the floor, a long hallway separating him from the rest of his directors that sit up here. Shimizu’s own office comes before his and she’s good at keeping people he doesn’t want to deal with away from him, so he’s not worried about being disturbed.

But the longer he waits, the more he thinks that he’s really ridiculous for following Kuroo's advice.

The moment Oikawa's smiling face appears outside his office door behind the glass wall, Iwaizumi loses his uncertainty.

“Wow, this place is so big,” Oikawa remarks, looking around with wide eyes.

His desk is a slab of dark mahogany, pushed to the back centre wall with his office door to the left and a window overlooking the streets of Chuo to the right. He has two black chairs opposite his desk for individual meeting purposes and a round, wooden table to the back of the room with five chairs for slightly larger groups.

The couch Kuroo occupied earlier sits against the glass wall that separates his office from the hallway outside. His windowsill is empty of plants but his walls are adorned with a dutiful portrait of his father and grandfather who started the company, and a few pieces of art Iwaizumi really has no interest in.

He’s much happier about his bookshelf that stands opposite the round table at the back, which holds a few family heirlooms and gifts passed down from people who have visited him. His favourite has to be the book on his family’s genealogy that his father gave to him once he graduated university and started working.

There aren’t many fond memories Iwaizumi has of his father, especially when his whole life up until his father’s death revolved around family duty, but this is one thing he can look at and appreciate.

“And you can see all of Tokyo from here!” Oikawa says, peering out the floor-to-ceiling glass window. “Iwa-chan, look, I can see your penthouse,” Oikawa points outside, like Iwaizumi doesn’t know it’s there.

He lets Oikawa's excitement flutter though, feeding off of it. Oikawa's so engrossed in touching Iwaizumi's belongings and sitting on all the seats he possibly can that he doesn’t notice the way Iwaizumi smiles at his enthusiasm.

Iwaizumi grew up coming to this office building, knowing that one day this exact office would be his. His whole life he was groomed to take on the position of CEO when his father passed, albeit no one expected that to be so early but still, he was given work in the company as soon as he graduated and there was never a doubt what Iwaizumi would do.

He’s grown up with money and lots of it, everything he’s ever wanted coming easily to him. It’s unfair if he thinks about it because even though Iwaizumi doesn’t believe in slacking, he’s always had a leg up because of his family’s stature. Oikawa's amusement at the small things like the size of his office remind Iwaizumi that the majority of people are in Oikawa's boat.

Maybe not in the  _exact_  same financial situation but they’re certainly closer to being broke than they are to having enough money to spend on trivial items and still having millions left over.

Oikawa's never told Iwaizumi just how he ended up living in one of the worst apartment buildings in Tokyo but after having seen where Oikawa's friend, Akaashi, lives, which is a much nicer place, Iwaizumi knows that there’s more to Oikawa's story than he’s letting on.

Still, it’s not Iwaizumi's job to pry and unless Oikawa wants to share he’s not going to actively seek out the details. He knows that Shimizu must have done the research for him even if he didn’t ask her to and since she hasn’t voiced her displeasure about Oikawa, Iwaizumi concludes he has nothing to worry about.

Oikawa is still peering out the window, eyes blown wide at the scenery outside when Iwaizumi finally snaps out of his daze and approaches him.

“I missed you,” Iwaizumi says honestly, fitting his head in the crook between Oikawa's neck and shoulder.

“You saw me this morning,” Oikawa laughs.

Iwaizumi can’t see his face but he can see its reflection in the glass; he’s pleased to see the patches of pink that appear on Oikawa's cheek. Iwaizumi turns his head so he can kiss Oikawa, making the flush bloom red.

“Did you get  _any_  work done today?” Iwaizumi asks, sliding his hands over Oikawa's hips.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Oikawa retorts. “Don’t think I didn’t see those stacks of papers on your desk. Iwa-chan’s been slacking.”

“It’s nothing,” Iwaizumi snorts.

Of course Oikawa is as observant as ever. It’s one of the qualities Iwaizumi likes so much about him.

“If anything, it’s your fault I wasn’t productive today,” Iwaizumi adds.

“Hmm, what are you going to do about that?” Oikawa asks, grinding back against Iwaizumi.

He gasps when he feels Iwaizumi's stiffness fit against him, the realization that Iwaizumi’s hard in his pants taking him by surprise.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give him the chance to make a teasing remark. He turns Oikawa around, slams him against the window, and pulls his lips into a bruising kiss.

Oikawa wraps his legs around Iwaizumi's waist and Iwaizumi hoists him up, rubbing his crotch against Oikawa until he can feel him growing hard too. Oikawa lets out little whimpers of pleasure, which only grow louder when Iwaizumi tugs at his hair and sucks at his neck.

On numerous occasions Oikawa's told him not to leave so many hickies but Iwaizumi loves seeing the purple bloom across Oikawa's otherwise smooth skin. He’s a blank canvas and Iwaizumi finds pleasure in painting him. There are a few fading marks that Iwaizumi's sure to correct and this time, Oikawa doesn’t voice his disapproval for the action.

Oikawa slides his body down the glass window, using it as leverage to grind against Iwaizumi. It's a distraction but it turns him on even more, so Iwaizumi's willing to let that slide.

When he’s satisfied with the hickies that are starting to form, he lets Oikawa down onto the carpeted floor, much to Oikawa's displeasure.

“Take your clothes off,” Iwaizumi demands.

Oikawa's quick to comply, throwing his shirt over his arms and slipping his jeans down his legs. Iwaizumi pulls at the hem of his boxers then lets go, the elastic snapping soundly against Oikawa's hip, the skin underneath turning pink from the impact.

“Can I fuck you like this?” Iwaizumi asks, indicating the spot they’re in.

Both sides of his office are covered in glass, except for the back wall and the wall behind his desk that are painted navy blue. If they’re going to have sex in here, there’s an equal opportunity of being spotted no matter where they decide to do it.

Oikawa flushes at the insinuation but after a moment’s thought, he nods. Iwaizumi can’t believe what Oikawa lets him do but it gets him off to know that if anyone looks out towards his office window, they’ll be able to see Oikawa naked and pressed up against the glass.

Iwaizumi quickly undoes his own belt, sliding his grey slacks and boxers down his legs until they pool at his feet. His jacket is already discarded against the back of his desk chair but he untucks his black dress shirt haphazardly.

Oikawa's fingers move to remove the buttons but he’s slow from the rush and fear of being fucked out in the open like this. Iwaizumi grows impatient and when Oikawa has all his buttons undone he doesn’t allow Oikawa to slip his shirt off, letting it flap open against his chest instead.

He captures Oikawa’s mouth in a kiss and Oikawa’s hands come up to use his open shirt as leverage to pull Iwaizumi in closer. Not that there is much  _closer_  to get when their cocks brush against one another and Iwaizumi’s tongue is down Oikawa’s throat. His own hands come up to Oikawa’s ass, squeezing the flesh between his palms.

When Oikawa said he regularly goes to the gym, Iwaizumi had no doubt in his mind that was true. Feeling Oikawa’s perky ass and toned body against him however, Iwaizumi’s satisfied to say he can prove Oikawa is right.

Iwaizumi pushes up against his asscheeks, urging Oikawa to wrap his long legs around Iwaizumi’s waist once again. He tilts his head back when Iwaizumi’s cockhead rubs against his open hole, wet from the earlier fingering.

“Iwa-chan, just fuck me, I’m ready,” he groans, chest flushed.

It’s not like Iwaizumi was planning on teasing but he plunges two fingers inside Oikawa to make sure of Oikawa’s statement on his own. He’s satisfied when his fingers slip in with little to no resistance. He can’t help but wonder how long Oikawa fucked himself open on his fingers to get like this but there’s no point in working himself up with a previous memory when he has Oikawa willing and ready for him right here.

“You want a condom?” Iwaizumi asks.

He’s got a few stashed in his desk drawer but a few days ago he and Oikawa exchanged test results. They’ve used a condom since just for the ease when it comes to clean-up but getting them now would require letting Oikawa down to the ground and wasting a few more seconds. Iwaizumi doesn’t think he has that kind of resolve so when Oikawa shakes his head, Iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to stretch his ass and slide in.

Oikawa may have spent some time prepping himself but that doesn’t mean he’s not still tight. Iwaizumi feels the familiar tautness engulf him and he loses himself in Oikawa’s warmth. With his legs wrapped around Iwaizumi, he’s even tighter and Iwaizumi takes advantage of this fact as he bounces Oikawa against his hips.

The window acts as a good support, Oikawa’s back pressed firmly against it, making a slight  _squeak_  every time Iwaizumi thrusts into him.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy, letting me fuck you where anyone can see you like this,” Iwaizumi praises, hand sliding over Oikawa’s hair to push it away from his forehead.

His other hand is on Oikawa’s hip, keeping him balanced upright.

“Iwa-chan, I want to cum,” Oikawa gasps when Iwaizumi hits his prostate.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi asks, punctuating his question with a thrust. “Be a good boy and hold it in. You can’t cum all over my shirt, right?” Iwaizumi reminds.

He trails his hand down Oikawa’s face, down his stomach until his fingers are ghosting over Oikawa’s crotch. Truth be told, Iwaizumi has plenty of extra shirts in his office to change into if this one gets dirty but Oikawa tightens up around him, anxious to follow his instructions.

Iwaizumi strokes Oikawa’s cock, thumb dragging over the vein slowly. Oikawa shivers at the touch, heel of his foot digging into Iwaizumi’s back.

“I can’t if you do that,  _please_ ,” Oikawa begs.

It only spurs Iwaizumi on to stroke him faster. Large beads of precum start to pool out from the tip, glazing over his shiny red head. Oikawa’s got such a pretty cock, long and curved and red. Iwaizumi’s tempted to suck him off until he cums in his mouth but he’s distracted by the feelings of Oikawa clenching around him for the moment.

“ _Iwa-chan_ , I’m going to cum,” Oikawa moans softly.

Iwaizumi shakes his head and clamps down at the base of Oikawa’s cock, stopping whatever orgasm was on its way.

“You want me to show up my meeting wearing a stained shirt, baby? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Iwaizumi asks. “Maybe I should, then bring you in to show everyone what a pretty, pretty boy I have,” he says. “Maybe I’ll bring you to all my meetings and you can suck me off in front of the whole room.”

Oikawa shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears from his prematurely prevented release. He’s panting, eyes closed, head tilted to the side to reveal the column of his neck littered in bites and bruises.

Iwaizumi makes up his mind at the sight and suddenly stops, pulling out of Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan… what are you—?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi turns him around mid-sentence so his front is pressed to the window instead. He puts his hands out to balance himself when Iwaizumi slips his cock back in, face turned to the side as his whole body is caged in.

“Oh my god,  _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa moans, eyes blown wide at the realization that not only can anyone see him up here but he can see them watching him.

This way though, Oikawa doesn’t have to worry about cumming somewhere he shouldn’t and as Iwaizumi begins to move again he spills against the glass, sensitive cock rubbing against it when he’s done.

Iwaizumi uses his hands to push Oikawa’s asscheeks together, making the drag tighter against his length as Oikawa loses his energy. Oikawa’s crying nonsense in front of him, which only grows louder when Iwaizumi cums inside, riding out his orgasm until there’s nothing left to spill.

He holds himself in Oikawa’s ass long after he’s done, enjoying the warmth that it provides, Oikawa squirming until Iwaizumi finally grows soft.

“Don’t, please,” Oikawa protests weakly when Iwaizumi plunges two fingers into Oikawa’s hole to feel the mess he’s made, fingers stroking his sensitive walls.

Some of his seed spills out and catches on Oikawa’s balls, drips down his thighs. His hole is twitching and rubbed red, the sight enough to start to stir Iwaizumi’s interest again. But he takes a step back and removes himself from the situation before it can go any further.

Iwaizumi picks up his pants and hooks the belt through the loops, letting his shirt remain untucked. He’s sweaty and he’s sure it’s ruined anyway so there’s no point in cinching it back in properly.

“I made a mess,” Oikawa frowns, blinking back tears at the sight of Iwaizumi’s stained window.

“That’s okay,” Iwaizumi smiles, “I’ll clean it up.”

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa apologizes, folding his arms over his chest protectively.

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa by the shoulders and nudges him close until he can wrap his arms tightly around the younger man.

“Iwa-chan” Oikawa says, pulling back in panic, “your shirt!”

“Fuck this shirt,” Iwaizumi laughs, sliding it off his shoulders. “I would never care about something as silly as monetary possessions, okay?”

Oikawa blinks in surprise at Iwaizumi’s absurd reaction. He’s put his own shirt back on but his pants and boxers remain off to the side while his crotch area and his ass is yet to be cleaned off from the sticky substance that’s pooled around and inside him.

“You’re not mad?” Oikawa asks hesitantly.

“Of course I’m not mad. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he offers, bending down to pick up Oikawa’s bottoms.

“And where do you suggest I do that?” Oikawa asks sarcastically.

Ridiculous. The moment he hears Iwaizumi isn’t angry with him his belligerence is back to a hundred and ten percent. It’s cute in a way and makes Iwaizumi want to squeeze his nose just to see his reaction.

He doesn’t though because he thinks he’s embarrassed Oikawa enough for one day.

“I have a private bathroom down the hall,” Iwaizumi says. “Shower and everything.”

“I don’t know if I should be pleased by this coincidence or appalled at the fact that you spend so much time here you have a private  _bathroom_ ,” Oikawa laughs.

“I’m not the one who put it in,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, smiling slightly. “It’s my father you can thank. And what do you mean I spend too much time here? I see you every single day,” Iwaizumi reminds.

Oikawa grins sheepishly in response, eyes closed to enhance the adorable look. Iwaizumi forgoes his earlier consideration and squeezes Oikawa’s nose between his thumb and forefinger anyway.

It’s not hard but Oikawa sputters at Iwaizumi’s gall and refuses his offer to help him clean up in the bathroom.

Iwaizumi supposes he deserves it but that doesn’t make it any easier on him when he hears Oikawa moan loudly from the bathroom as he cleans himself up just to rile Iwaizumi.

As promised, Iwaizumi does take Oikawa to lunch when he’s done and is almost late for his Board of Directors meeting in the process but it’s worth it when Oikawa’s still waiting for him in his office upon his return wearing one of Iwaizumi’s clean dress shirts, sitting at his desk like he belongs there.

The shirt is slightly too big on him but he looks cute and when Iwaizumi tells him to keep it, Oikawa’s reaction is enough to light up Iwaizumi’s days for the rest of the week.


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you have to go?” Oikawa asks, watching Iwaizumi string up paper lanterns across his patio.

They’re pretty and make the already well-decorated outdoor space look even nicer. But Oikawa knows the real meaning behind them and the thought puts a damper on his mood, especially when Iwaizumi isn’t paying him any attention.

He has his back to Oikawa, front to the sliding glass door that faces the inside of his penthouse apartment. Oikawa's got a great a view of his back, clad in a black tank top that exposes his muscular arms. The lanterns aren’t heavy but the work Iwaizumi's trying to do with them is delicate and requires both attention and the flexing of his biceps.

There’s a tattoo of a black dragon encircling a red lotus on his right shoulder blade, the mouth of the dragon weaving between the straps of his tank top to the middle of his back.

It was only recently that Oikawa caught a glimpse of the ink; Iwaizumi's back has always been covered before then and when they’re having sex it’s either Oikawa's back or front that’s exposed to Iwaizumi and not vice versa.

Seeing the tattoo intimidated him at first and Iwaizumi noticed the panic on his face right away. Oikawa knows it’s the reason he kept it a secret but then again, it isn’t like Oikawa is unaware of the fact that Iwaizumi's colleagues are part of the yakuza.

Iwaizumi's tattoo is relatively small, symbolic, a show of alliance and although that should scare Oikawa, his gentleness and character speak volumes about the type of person he is. That matters more to Oikawa than what Iwaizumi does at work and how he makes his money.

Now that Oikawa knows it’s there, Iwaizumi doesn’t go out of his way to cover it up, which leaves a lot more for Oikawa to appreciate. Today though, he’s not feeling particularly willing to openly gaze at the smooth muscles of Iwaizumi's shoulders and back.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi nods, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He grunts slightly when he can’t poke the string through the loop at the top of the lantern. Normally, Oikawa would offer to help but in the entire time that they’ve been out here Iwaizumi hasn’t even once looked at Oikawa, even though he’s wearing nothing but one of Iwaizumi's shirts and a pair of boxers.

It’s 5 pm and Oikawa's been lounging around doing his own thing while Iwaizumi's been in and out of his house all day. When Iwaizumi finally came back for the day for what Oikawa assumed was to stay the rest of the evening, he was sorely disappointed to learn that wasn’t the case.

“But Iwa-chan, I have three days off from work and school’s going to start up soon,” Oikawa frowns.

“I know, and I want to stay but I’ve got three days off from work for the exact same reason you do and prior commitments to attend to,” Iwaizumi answers.

His response isn’t curt, just informative, but it still manages to jab Oikawa in the heart. Oikawa hums dismissively, turning his back to Iwaizumi so he can stare at the city skyline instead.

The sun isn’t going to be setting for at least another hour and half but the blue light is starting to dim. It’s a peaceful time of day, especially with the start of Obon. Most homes are decorated, even the ones high up in the sky and Iwaizumi's place is no exception.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks, setting the last lantern down onto the patio table.

He comes to sit next to Oikawa, scooting him over on the two-person bench to make room for himself. Oikawa brings his knees up to his chest and turns his head to the side, stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

“You know that if I could, I’d spend all three days with you,” Iwaizumi says.

“Hmm,” Oikawa agrees.

He’s not sure if he really  _knows_  that though, as Iwaizumi put it. Sure, Iwaizumi's been great to him and he goes out of his way to make sure Oikawa's taken care of but how much longer will he want to do that for? Iwaizumi's just a guy who pays for him until he gets bored and there are plenty of people for Iwaizumi to interest himself with.

Deep down, Oikawa knows this isn’t true; he may not be rich but he has a lot to offer and Iwaizumi seems to like him for more than just the way he looks. It’s not like they can fuck all day, anyway, and Iwaizumi's keen on conversing with him too.

The problem is, Oikawa doesn’t know if there’s any stability in their relationship and he’s almost afraid to ask. He’s never been the kind of person to get hung up on labels and it hasn’t bothered him that he and Iwaizumi haven’t talked about the future.

But he’s only human and so it’s natural that he can become insecure from time to time too.

“What’s wrong?” Iwaizumi asks.

He bends an arm around Oikawa and tucks his head into his shoulder. Oikawa's tense but the longer Iwaizumi's free hand runs up and down his arm, the more he relaxes until his muscles relax. His chest still feels tight but it has more to do with the scenery than anything.

“I don’t like this time of the year,” Oikawa admits quietly.

“No?” Iwaizumi asks.

He doesn't pry but his tone is curious. Oikawa's been regularly seeing Iwaizumi for three weeks now and not once has he asked Oikawa about his personal life apart from remembering things Oikawa's willingly shared.

“Everyone always goes on about family duty and remembering our ancestors and how it’s a  _Japanese_   _tradition_  like that makes it right,” Oikawa says. “I  _hate_  Obon.”

He realizes it sounds a little childish once the words are out of his mouth, but Iwaizumi doesn’t remark on that. He’s not even angry, which is the last reaction Oikawa expects from him considering how much he cares about Obon. He’s decorating his house with traditional paper lanterns and Oikawa can’t believe he’s overlooked that to be petty.

But Iwaizumi's surprisingly patient.

“Where are you originally from?” he asks Oikawa.

“Miyagi,” Oikawa responds dully.

He loved everything about Miyagi until the second year of middle school. He had a nice home, loving parents, enough money to be able to comfortably afford tuition to a good private school in the prefecture. His family wasn’t rich but by no means were they poor and everything was great.

Then his mother got sick and everything happened so fast. Within three months of being diagnosed with cancer, she died, the cells having metastasized. There was no chance for an operation, the diseases was detected too late. Oikawa hates that his parents didn’t realize his mother was sick sooner, that  _he_  didn’t realize sooner.

Oikawa had volleyball to keep him distracted, the sport providing a sort of relief from the pains of the real world. His father took on gambling, something much more dangerous. Oikawa didn’t even know how bad it was until suddenly his marks mattered more than anything because his family no longer had the money to afford his school. It was scholarships and a little helping hand from his teachers that allowed him to move on from a good middle school to a good high school.

Volleyball took a secondary role but even that was stolen from him at the end of the season in his second year of high school. His dad lost their house, they moved to a smaller apartment and whatever free time Oikawa had from studying so he could keep his scholarship, he spent working part-time at the conbini to help pay off his father’s gambling debts.

No matter how hard he worked, there were  _always_  loans to pay off until finally, Oikawa learned that the reality of it all. He could work his entire life and still have to pay for the amount of money his father had lost.

When his father died in the middle of Oikawa's third year of high school, he hated to admit that it came as a sort of relief. He still had debts to pay off, but at least it wasn’t going to get any worse. He was old enough to live alone but that also meant he was old enough to be harassed for money and eventually, Oikawa got tired of the treatment.

He wasn’t the one who had fucked up his entire life. Saving money on the side for university was difficult, especially when the men who his father owed money to knew just about everything Oikawa did. Somehow though, he was able to leave all his possessions behind and start up a new life in Tokyo.

It’s been three and a half years since Oikawa's seen his father’s debt collectors. For the most part, Oikawa's able to live his life without the memory but every Obon, he’s reminded of just what kind of troubles he’s run away from. Tokyo’s been great so far but that doesn’t mean he’s completely safe from his old life.

“You don’t want to go back?” Iwaizumi asks.

“ _No_ ,” Oikawa states firmly.

“Then don’t go back. No one’s obligated to follow a tradition they don’t want to, and just because you don’t doesn’t mean you’re doing anything incorrect,” Iwaizumi reassures. “I can take the lanterns down if you want,” he adds.

Iwaizumi's offer is followed by an inexplicable pang in Oikawa's heart.

“Don’t do that,” Oikawa shakes his head. “You don’t have to change your traditions for me. This is your home,” he reminds.

Iwaizumi nods, his face brushing the top of Oikawa's head in the position they’re in. He keeps still, offering Oikawa his shoulder for support, the last lantern lying forgotten for the time being.

Objectively speaking, the lanterns  _are_  pretty. They’re made from delicate beige paper, the names of family members written on all four sides. Almost all of them have the kanji for ‘Iwaizumi,’ an indication that they’re meant for Iwaizumi's family members but there is one lantern with only two names, both of which say ‘Takeda.’

When the sky falls dark, the lights inside will make the lanterns glow orange, guiding the spirits of Iwaizumi's family home for three days. Oikawa knows the meaning is beautiful and the tradition is one of peace and reverence but he can’t appreciate it. Not when he’s unwilling to go home and celebrate it properly.

Oikawa turns his head so that his neck is placed firmly on Iwaizumi's shoulder, his nose brushing Iwaizumi's jaw. Iwaizumi hasn’t shaved yet today and the prickly stubble feels sort of nice against his skin.

“You can stay the night,” Iwaizumi says. “I have to go to the shrine but I’ll be back.”

“Late?” Oikawa hedges.

“You know the answer to that,” Iwaizumi smiles. “I promise when Obon is over we can do something together. I’ll take a few days off work and you can pick anywhere you want to go. Think of it as a vacation before classes start back up for you,” he offers.

“That sounds nice and all, but I do have to go to work,” Oikawa reminds.

“Request a few days off,” Iwaizumi shrugs.

“Iwa-chan, I don’t think you understand how the Blue Crystal works. I can’t just request days off,” Oikawa says..

“Fine, would you prefer it if I requested the days off for you?” Iwaizumi asks.

“ _No_!” Oikawa says quickly. “Don’t do that, it’s embarrassing…”

Oikawa frowns, thinking about whether he really can request to take time off. He’s already gotten a full weekend off in July for his birthday and then three days off for Obon. The first time, Oikawa didn’t ask for the days off and this time, it’s customary that all stores are closed during the celebration; Fujiyama-san is very fastidious when it comes to traditions and culture.

There’s no written rule that Oikawa can’t ask for a vacation but there is an unspoken one that you just  _don’t_. Oikawa doesn’t want to push his luck, especially not since he’s been regularly serving on the second floor since that first day a few weeks ago, so he feels like he’ll just be taking advantage.

A vacation with Iwaizumi is tempting though, so he nods, agreeing to ask the restaurant manager before Iwaizumi asks Fujiyama-san directly.

“You can pick anywhere you want to go,” Iwaizumi confirms.

“Anywhere?” Oikawa asks.

“ _Anywhere_ ,” Iwaizumi agrees.

The thought makes him happy. Oikawa hasn’t travelled much, outside of Miyagi for volleyball tournaments in high school. Ever since moving to Tokyo, he hasn’t left the city and while it hasn’t bothered him, the anticipation of travelling now has Oikawa excited.

He keeps his giddiness to himself, wrapped up in the tranquil moment. Oikawa doesn’t know how long they sit out on the bench for but the sun starts to set when they finally decide to move.

Iwaizumi throws Oikawa an apologetic look and points to the last lantern he has yet to string up. Oikawa's not upset that Iwaizumi is a believer in tradition so he presses a kiss to his cheek and bids him good luck before he returns into the brightness of Iwaizumi's apartment.

August is the warmest month in Japan and Tokyo is especially hot so Oikawa has no qualms about walking around the house half-naked. With Iwaizumi's staff having been given leave for three days too, he’s perfectly comfortable lounging around without a care for who comes in.

Iwaizumi's going out for the night anyway, so Oikawa doesn’t expect anyone to walk in but someone does and it’s none other than Iwaizumi's best friend, Kuroo Tetsurou.

He regularly frequents the Blue Crystal too, mostly with Iwaizumi but the only time Oikawa began to pay attention to him was when he started to take an interest in Iwaizumi. They haven’t properly met though and Oikawa's embarrassed to say he doesn't want to lest Kuroo doesn’t like him.

Besides, no one can have such a boyish grin all the time and actually mean it, so he’s wary of what the man may be hiding underneath.

“Am I interrupting?” Kuroo asks.

Iwaizumi’s gone upstairs to change after finishing with his lanterns outside so Oikawa's startled when he hears a voice coming from the front. He’s even more shocked when Kuroo's grinning face pokes out from behind the wall separating the living room from the hallway that leads to the foyer.

“No,” Oikawa shakes his head, standing up at the sound of Kuroo's voice.

He resists the urge to bring his hands down to his crotch since he knows he’s fully covered there. It’s a nervous habit though and he feels a little bit on display. Iwaizumi's white shirt is large enough to fit him because even though Oikawa is taller than him, his torso is shorter than Iwaizumi's. Iwaizumi tells him his long legs are an asset and Oikawa's inclined to believe him.

Right now, they just make him feel like he’s on display though.

“Iwa-chan, uh… Iwaizumi-san is upstairs,” Oikawa says quietly, bowing his head in greeting.

“Eh, Iwa-chan?” Kuroo asks. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” he chuckles fondly.

From his name and unruly hair, Oikawa concludes that he’s the  _Tetsu-chan_  in the picture that brought light to Iwaizumi’s nickname in the first place.

“He lets you call him that?” Kuroo raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“I won’t if you don’t think I should,” Oikawa says honestly.

“If I told you to do something Iwaizumi didn’t agree with, I’m sure I’d be out a job,” Kuroo laughs with a slight wave. “Hell, if I told you to do  _anything_ I’m sure I’d be out of a job.”

Oikawa can’t tell if he’s joking or not but then again, he’s slightly intimidated by Kuroo so everything he says is taken with a hint of apprehension.

“What’s he doing anyway? We’re supposed to be at the shrine in thirty minutes and traffic is already terrible as it is with everyone hustling to get to their destinations on time.”

Kuroo takes a few strides forward and seats himself in the couch across from where Oikawa's standing. He motions for Oikawa to sit down and Oikawa does so, reservedly, in order to not let his boxers underneath his shirt.

“He’s changing,” Oikawa says stiffly.

“Ugh he’s the slowest person I know. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s scrutinizing his appearance or because he just doesn’t want to leave,” Kuroo says.

Oikawa doesn’t know how to respond so he avoids eye contact and stares at his socked feet on the ground. He has a feeling Kuroo isn’t really talking to him anyway, just voicing his thoughts aloud.

“You’re not coming?” Kuroo asks, tearing Oikawa's attention away from the rug below him.

“No,” Oikawa shakes his head.

“Why not?” Kuroo asks, genuinely confused.

Oikawa didn’t realize he was supposed to come, not that he would have said yes if Iwaizumi asked. But Iwaizumi  _didn’t_  ask and now Oikawa's confused if Kuroo's just messing with him or if Iwaizumi truly didn’t want to ask him about it.

“Kuroo, stop bothering Oikawa. Didn’t I tell you to wait in the lobby?” Iwaizumi asks.

“And what, have you put off me meeting him again? No thanks,” Kuroo scoffs. “Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way,” he introduces himself like Oikawa doesn’t know exactly who he is.

“You’re such a shithead, you know that? What kind of rude manners do you think you can bring into my home?” Iwaizumi asks.

Oikawa presumes he’s talking about the delayed introduction but he can’t be sure. He’s too caught up in the comfortable way Iwaizumi is speaking around Kuroo to care much about a lack of proper manners directed towards him. Iwaizumi's so  _relaxed_ , and Oikawa hasn’t even seen him like this in front of Shimizu.

They’re friendly, sure, but there’s no divider in rank and familiarity between Iwaizumi and Kuroo. It’s refreshing, really, and puts Iwaizumi into a new light. He seems more human, even though Oikawa's never doubted his humanity before.

It might also have something to do with the fact that he’s wearing a navy yukata, a contrast to Kuroo's maroon one. He looks more approachable when he’s not wearing sharp, tailored suits but somehow still intimidating and just as handsome.

“Quit showing off in front of Oikawa-kun and let’s get a move on,” Kuroo laughs.

Oikawa looks up at the sound of his name. Iwaizumi's ears burn red and it’s one of the rare occasions that he looks truly embarrassed. Even in Kuroo's presence Oikawa's face breaks out into a smile.

“Iwa-chan’s good at telling people what to do. He’s not so great at following instructions though,” Oikawa chuckles.

“ _Hah_ ,” Kuroo snorts. “Don’t you know it. I like him,” he states to no one in particular.

Iwaizumi's face turns sour and he punches Kuroo's arm, hard, from the looks of it. Kuroo curses loudly and glares at Iwaizumi, saying something about he’s got to restrain his monstrous strength. Oikawa almost blurts out that Iwaizumi's very good at restraining his strength with him but he catches himself at the last minute.

Every time they have sex, Oikawa's sure Iwaizumi's going to break him but he’s only as rough as Oikawa can take. But he’s seen Iwaizumi lift weights at the gym the one time he accompanied him, and Oikawa knows for a fact he weighs a lot less than what Iwaizumi's actually able to lift.

“We should go,” Iwaizumi says apologetically to Oikawa.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying this entire time?” Kuroo asks, feigning offence.

“Go wait outside,” Iwaizumi stares flatly at his friend.

Kuroo shrugs and gives Oikawa a pointed look that says  _‘Can you believe he talks to me like this?’_  just to piss Iwaizumi off but takes his leave before he’s told off a second time.

“I heard what Kuroo said to you before I came down,” Iwaizumi says when he and Oikawa are alone again. “And I  _was_  going to ask if you wanted to come but you made it clear you don’t like Obon,” Iwaizumi frowns.

“Why’d you wait so long?” Oikawa asks hesitantly.

“Honestly?” Iwaizumi laughs. “I thought my chances of getting you to agree would be higher if I asked as close to the event as possible,” he admits. “If you want to come though, you still can. I’ll wait for you.”

Oikawa's happy with the invite but Iwaizumi was right. He doesn’t like Obon and he’s not willing to go to the shrine. He also knows for a fact that Iwaizumi's attending with his colleagues and that includes Fujiyama-san. As nice as the man is, he still scares Oikawa. Besides, Oikawa's not sure he fits in with that crowd no matter how understanding Iwaizumi is.

“Thank you for asking me, but no, please go without me,” Oikawa smiles.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Iwaizumi promises. “And I’ll pick up a box of red bean mochi for you on my way home,” he adds.

“Okay!” Oikawa agrees happily. “I’ll wait up for you.”

Iwaizumi leans in to kiss him goodbye but before he can, a loud alarm goes off; startling them both.

“Goddammit Kuroo, I told you to wait outside!” Iwaizumi shouts.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa laughs, taking light of the situation. “It’s not Kuroo, it’s your laptop,” he points to the coffee table where his black laptop sits.

“What’s wrong with it?” Iwaizumi asks, opening the lid.

There’s a black screen with words in white-font and Iwaizumi starts to press buttons at random to make it go away instead of reading the on-screen instructions.

“Don’t do that!” Oikawa scolds, moving Iwaizumi's hands away from the keyboard.

“Fuck, I can’t lose the information I have stored on here,” Iwaizumi curses.

“It’s fine, I’m sure everything is replaceable as long as you’ve got an external hard drive… you  _do_  have an external hard drive, right?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi's flat stare is answer enough.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chides. “Do you know anything about computers? Give it here, I’ll fix it,” Oikawa offers.

“Don’t bother, I’ll send it into the store tomorrow,” Iwaizumi waves off.

“Oh come on, I don’t have anything to do while you’re gone. Besides, you have to pay to have it fixed at the store. I can do it for free,” Oikawa grins.

“I don’t think money is an issue,” Iwaizumi laughs.

“Please?” Oikawa asks. “I can’t exactly break it anymore than it currently is. And I’m graduating in March so if I can’t fix your laptop after three and a half years of studying computer science, what good am I?”

Iwaizumi grunts in frustration but gives in. “Fine, but I want it fixed by the time I get home,” he says stubbornly.

“Oh yeah? And what if it’s not done?” Oikawa challenges.

“If you want to know so bad, you should hold off on trying to fix it,” Iwaizumi answers, eyes suddenly ablaze.

It sounds more like a promise than a threat, but Oikawa's satisfied enough to laugh good-naturedly. He walks Iwaizumi out, waving goodbye to both him and Kuroo who took the meaning of ‘waiting outside’ quite literally and is standing an inch away from the door.

When the door clicks in place, he realizes he’s the only person left in the apartment. But Oikawa's gotten used to the feeling of being alone in Iwaizumi's house lately and the place doesn’t feel as eerie as it did the first time Oikawa was left to himself.

He already ate when Iwaizumi was getting ready so Oikawa takes Iwaizumi’s laptop, sits on the couch and tries to figure out what’s wrong with it. When following the on-screen instructions doesn’t work, and neither does simply powering it off then back on, Oikawa takes out his toolkit and unscrews the back to take a look at the hardware.

Most of his school things are at Iwaizumi's because it’s a much nicer place to study in, but Oikawa supposes he has his digital circuits and systems professor to thank for assigning them a project over the course of the break; otherwise he wouldn’t have the tools he needs to fix Iwaizumi's laptop.

It takes about an hour but when Oikawa re-screws the back on and presses the power button, he’s happy to see that there’s no black screen anymore. The loading dock appears and Oikawa finds himself grinning until there’s a pop-up for a password.

He knows the computer is working if it’s gotten to this point but Oikawa  _is_  a little curious to see if Iwaizumi is predictable. He convinces himself he’s just testing out the privacy settings on Iwaizumi's laptop and doesn’t actually think he’ll be able to crack it but when he types in  _‘Iwachan0610’_  and the laptop actually begins to load the desktop, Oikawa startles at having guessed right.

_Seriously_? What kind of a password is that even? He makes a mental note to urge Iwaizumi to change it without letting him know how it’s a weak one. If Oikawa can guess it, he doesn’t even want to know how many other people can. Iwaizumi was quite adamant about not losing his information so Oikawa can only assume he has important documents on here.

Maybe he’ll get Iwaizumi a hard drive as a gift. Lately, Oikawa's had some savings since Iwaizumi's been paying for everything so it’s the least he can do.

Concluding that the issue has been fixed, Oikawa moves to close the lid. His hands slips and he presses a few buttons by accident and suddenly, the photo album app starts to load.

“ _Shit_ ,” Oikawa curses.

Iwaizumi must have a hotkey set up for it, not that Oikawa can understand why  _anyone_  would want a hotkey for the photo album. It’s one of the least opened apps on his laptop.

He has every intention of closing the app the moment it loads properly, not wanting to cause the laptop to work harder to quit it before it even has the chance to open but once all the pictures start to load Oikawa has a hard time looking away.

Still, he knows it’s wrong to pry. Iwaizumi trusted him with his private property and not because he wanted Oikawa to go through it.

An album titled  _‘WEDDING TAKEDA’_  catches Oikawa's eyes, if only because it’s the same surname he saw on one of the lanterns hanging out in the patio.

When Oikawa clicks on it, he expects to see a wedding between two random people that he doesn’t know and Iwaizumi to be in the wedding party as a groomsman or maybe the best man.

Oikawa  _does_  see Iwaizumi in the pictures but instead of being a member of the wedding party, he’s the one getting married.

“ _Oh my god!_ ”

Oikawa practically shoves the laptop off the coffee table but catches himself in the act at the last minute. He rubs at his eyes because this has to be a joke but when he searches for the pictures on the laptop screen a second time,  he’s sorely disappointed that it’s not.

It’s definitely Iwaizumi's wedding. He’s standing next to a woman with pretty black hair that’s tied up in a delicate bun, wearing a white kimono. Iwaizumi himself is sporting a black kimono in what looks like a traditional Japanese wedding.

He’s younger in the picture, can’t be more than twenty, but Oikawa's not really interested in how old he is; it’s the fact that he’s  _married_  that catches him off guard.

Despite himself, he scrolls through the rest of the album, eyes welling up with every picture that he sees. He’s angry, yes, but he’s also upset and he hates that he  _is_  upset.

The smart thing is to close the app and put the laptop away before he finds something more incriminating, but Oikawa's too far gone to care about what the smart thing to do is. Not even when he acknowledges that out of all the things, Iwaizumi is definitely going to be angry about this.

But he doesn't care. What gives Iwaizumi the right to be angry with Oikawa for accidentally finding out that he’s married, anyway? As far as Oikawa's concerned, that’s a topic that should have come up a long time ago.

There are photos of them at the temple before and after the ceremony that celebrates a more traditional setting. But there are also photos of a western style reception where Iwaizumi’s wearing a tuxedo and his bride is in a beaded, white fit-and-flare wedding dress.

She’s really pretty with big almond shaped eyes, flawless skin and a bone structure to die for. Her features are delicate, her body slim. She looks really good in the dress—she looks really good in general and she’s not even wearing much makeup.

Oikawa hates to admit it but he’s jealous.

In a few of the photos there is a black banner with silver lettering that reads  _‘Congratulations Iwaizumi Hajime and Takeda Yuki.’_

For a moment, Oikawa allows himself to think that Iwaizumi’s wife is dead but while her surname matches that of the ones on the paper lantern, her given name does not.

It’s too much for Oikawa to handle. There are a ton of good explanations to excuse the situation but all Oikawa can focus on are the bad.

Before he can really drive himself mad, he quits the app, taking care to make sure it really isn’t open before he closes the lid. Oikawa sets Iwaizumi’s laptop on the coffee table, puts away his tools and treks upstairs.

He wants to go home but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to pay much attention in his current state. With a heavy heart, he changes into his own pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with Pac-Man on it and climbs into Iwaizumi’s bed.

Oikawa takes care to sleep as far off to his side as he can and pulls the sheets over his head, cocooning himself in completely.

He doesn’t fall asleep, not when he has so much on his mind, but when Iwaizumi comes home late, Oikawa sure pretends to be. He feels Iwaizumi’s touch as his hand peels off the covers just to reveal Oikawa’s face. Iwaizumi stands at the edge of the bed for a few moments before he bends down and presses a kiss to Oikawa’s forehead.

Oikawa hears Iwaizumi sigh but he doesn’t know if it’s a sound of disappointment or fondness. Hazed in a cloud of doubt, he’s inclined to believe it’s the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello angst. Don't worry it goes away pretty quick.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got in the way, what can I say ;___; Thank you to everyone who's stuck around though! <3 I know the last chapter left many of you anxious but I hope this chapter will be able to appease you!

After spending the entire night and much of the early morning pretending to be asleep, Oikawa finds himself on his way to Akaashi’s house with too many thoughts and nowhere to focus them.

He’s tired, his head hurts, his chest is tight and it all has to do with what he found on Iwaizumi’s laptop last night.

When Iwaizumi came home from his night out at the shrine, Oikawa was mildly afraid that he was going to see through Oikawa’s facade and wake him up. Fortunately though, Iwaizumi remained blissfully unaware of Oikawa’s faking slumber and let him be.  

He came to bed only a few moments after checking up on Oikawa and even though Oikawa was sleeping off to the side, Iwaizumi scooted over to bury himself in Oikawa’s space, arm coming out to gently wrap Oikawa in his embrace.

It was clear he was trying not to stir Oikawa; his diligence in getting into bed made Oikawa’s eyes well up but he pushed aside the thought in favour of blankness. He didn’t need to get sentimental—didn’t want to when he had so many unanswered questions.

The entire night Oikawa spent willing his eyes to close and for sleep to take him but his anxiousness didn’t subside. It was only when the early daylight broke and Iwaizumi finally got out of bed that Oikawa felt himself relax.

To his credit, Iwaizumi was silent while getting ready for the day. Oikawa didn’t know how long he could stay in bed considering they both had the day off but thankfully, Iwaizumi had plans and  left the house early.

It was only twenty minutes after the house went silent that Oikawa convinced himself it was okay to get up. He wasn’t sure what to think of last night and in order to forego any arguments so early on in the day, he preferred to avoid Iwaizumi.

But he’s not sure how long he can avoid Iwaizumi though, especially when his phone’s been going off non-stop for the past hour. It’s Iwaizumi, likely calling to ask him where he is, but Oikawa isn’t feeling very compliant at the moment.

Iwaizumi must be home now to notice that Oikawa’s not there and although Oikawa is adamant about ignoring his calls, he knows that the longer he puts it off the more suspicious Iwaizumi will become and that’s just going to start off their inevitable conversation about his marriage with an angry bias on both ends.

The rational thing to do is to take his call and tell him he’s going to Akaashi’s but Oikawa’s used up all his rationality for the day and he’s not above making Iwaizumi worry if that’s what he’s doing.

It’s not like he  _really_ cares about Oikawa anyway. If he did, he wouldn’t have kept his marriage a secret.

The fact that Iwaizumi’s married—was married—aside, it’s how he insisted that he wasn’t a liar that really made Oikawa feel like he was cheated.

_Technically_ , Oikawa supposes that Iwaizumi didn’t lie because the topic of his marriage never came up but it’s the morality and principle of it all that has Oikawa annoyed.

Sure, Oikawa’s seen him at the Blue Crystal with women before but he doesn’t wear a wedding band and there are no photos in his house to indicate that he’s not a bachelor. Oikawa may like him and he may enjoy being taken care of but not if the caveat is that he’s treated as the ‘other woman’ or in this case, man.

Life hasn’t always been good to him but he’s found strength in the fact that things could be worse and that the only reason he’s come so far is that he doesn’t hurt other people in the process of making his own accomplishments come true. What he’s doing with Iwaizumi completely destroys everything he stands for.

“Were we supposed to work on a project today or go out because—” Akaashi stops in his tracks, taking a good look at Oikawa’s expression. “What’s wrong?” he asks, ushering Oikawa into his apartment.

“Iwaizumi’s married.”

“ _What_?” Akaashi screams. “Oh my god, you’re serious?” he asks, closing the door behind Oikawa with a loud slam.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not a funny joke,” Oikawa angers.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Akaashi apologizes, appeasing his friend. “Do you want to eat or drink something? You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa says drily.

“Tea?” Akaashi asks, ignoring Oikawa’s sarcasm.

“Tea’s fine,” Oikawa accepts.

Akaashi nods and waves in the general direction of the couch for Oikawa to take a seat before he goes into the kitchen. Akaashi’s apartment is familiar and homey, which is just what Oikawa needs right now. He doesn’t realize how sleep deprived he is until he’s being shaken awake by Akaashi only moments later.

“Are you okay?” Akaashi asks, offering Oikawa a mug.

“Hnngh,” Oikawa dismisses.

He’s not okay but he doesn’t want to talk about himself right now. He wants Akaashi’s confirmation that Iwaizumi is an asshole so he can convince himself to draw some distance.

Oikawa brings the tea up to his mouth, thankful for the warm liquid and the caffeine it provides. He already had a cup of black coffee this morning but he has a feeling that if he wants to remain alert for the rest of the day, he’s going to need a lot more of a boost.

“So…” Akaashi says unsubtly after a few moments of silence, “Iwaizumi’s married, huh?”

“Yes,” Oikawa says over his cup bitterly.

“I thought you said he was gay?” Akaashi asks. “The last I heard, homosexuality is still illegal in Japan so unless he’s married to a woman I’m not sure what you mean by he’s  _married_.”

“It’s exactly what you think it is,” Oikawa sighs.

“That son of a bitch!” Akaashi screams. “I’m going to kill him. No, I’m going to get Bokuto to kill him. Bokuto!” he yells loudly.

There’s a muffled shout from inside the room before a large  _thud_  indicates that Bokuto’s fallen off the bed. A few moments later, he appears into the living room bleary eyed, wearing a tank top and gym shorts.

“Akaashi it’s only 10 am, you know I got in late yesterday,” Bokuto yawns.

Oikawa watches the display with mild interest. He doesn’t care if Bokuto knows; in fact, if he does then he’ll tell Oikawa to quit whatever game they have too and right now, Oikawa needs all the support he can get.

As angry as he is with Iwaizumi there’s a part of him that wants to hold on to the fact that deep down, Iwaizumi’s a good guy. He could be divorced, which is definitely a plus but he was still married at  _some point_ so Oikawa’s not really sure.

It’s these kinds of wishy washy thoughts that have his heart in a jumbled mess.

“You got in at 1 am and passed out in ten seconds. That’s plenty of sleep, come here. We’ve got more pressing concerns,” Akaashi says dismissively.

Bokuto heaves a heavy sigh but patters over anyway, falling into the armchair.

“You have to kill Iwaizumi Hajime,” Akaashi says seriously.

“What?” Bokuto asks, blinking back like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s just heard.

“Keep up, Bokuto,” Akaashi snaps.

“Let me get this straight,” Bokuto says slowly, “you woke me up to tell me to one, kill a man and two, kill a man who’s in the inner circle of one of Tokyo’s most well-known yakuza boss?”

“Yes,” Akaashi confirms.

“Baby, you’ve been spending too much time at work if you think killing people is a viable solution. You gotta quit,” Bokuto sighs.

Oikawa can’t help it when he bursts into loud laughter at the exchange. It’s followed by a startled look from Bokuto and a small smile from Akaashi, which Oikawa supposes was the whole point of this charade in the first place.

“You can go back to bed now,” Akaashi says to Bokuto.

“What? No way, what’s going on?” Bokuto asks, looking between them curiously.

Akaashi shakes his head, letting Oikawa decide if he wants to share his personal information.

“Remember the guy I was seeing?” Oikawa asks.

“The one Akaashi wants me to kill? Yes,” Bokuto nods.

“Well I found out that he’s married—was married. I don’t know, really. He never talked about it and I was fixing his laptop for him yesterday when I found pictures from his wedding. It’s weird to keep them if he’s not married anymore, right?” Oikawa asks.

Bokuto raises his eyebrows in surprise. The height at which they rise is a clear indication that the information is more than just shocking.

“Wow,” he whistles deeply.

“Yeah,” Oikawa agrees.

“Does he know you know?” Bokuto asks.

“No, I only found out last night when he wasn’t home. I pretended to be asleep when he did get in and avoided him all morning,” Oikawa explains sheepishly.

He can still feel his phone vibrating in his pocket every few minutes and it’s making him anxious.

“Eh, you should get your story straight before you talk to him,” Bokuto nods.

“I know but how am I supposed to find out the truth? It’s not like I can just ask him first and all his friends would either rat me out or flat out refuse to tell me. Not that I know how to get in touch with them,  _anyway_ ,” Oikawa reminds.

“Did you try Googling the information?” Bokuto asks.

“No…” Oikawa says slowly.

It’s not a bad idea and he’s ashamed to say that almost four years of university haven’t engrained this problem-solving mechanism into his mind.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be the computer whizzes?” Bokuto laughs.

Oikawa feels the impact of that statement in his heart. If he wasn’t good at computers, he wouldn’t be in the predicament he’s in right now in the first place.

“Stop demeaning our major,” Akaashi reprimands.

“I—never mind,” Bokuto sighs, leaning over the armrest on Akaashi’s side as Akaashi pulls out his laptop.

Oikawa scoots over next to Akaashi who types the keywords ‘Iwaizumi Hajime married to’ into the search engine.

When the page loads, Oikawa expects a million different search results to pop up. After all, Iwaizumi is pretty famous around Tokyo, but there isn’t even  _one_  result that fits the exact criteria of Akaashi’s search.

However there are plenty of search results for just ‘Iwaizumi Hajime,’ and Akaashi clicks those at random to find the information they’re looking for.

The longer they scroll with no information on Iwaizumi’s marriage, the worse Oikawa’s unease grows. He doesn’t know what to believe anymore, he doesn’t even know  _who_  Iwaizumi is and that puts him into a panicked state.

Every time Oikawa thinks they’re close to finding something, the article link ends up being broken, ‘ _Error. Page not found’_  appearing more times than a loaded screen itself.

After what feels like hours, Akaashi finally lands a hit off a sketchy radio website. Most of the page is covered in mail order bride advertisements but there’s a small article in the middle of the page that mentions Iwaizumi by name.

> _Iwaizumi Hajime, 21, is now caught in a predictable situation. The son of the famous businessman, Iwaizumi Daisuke, has been accused of domestic abuse and is now seeking a divorce from his wife, Takeda Yuki._
> 
> _It doesn’t really come as a surprise to anyone who knows the young entrepreneur. His irrational temper, his cocky attitude, and his connections with the yakuza all fit the bill of the abusive husband._
> 
> _We can only guess how long this has been going on for, as poor Takeda Yuki has refused to indulge  more information out of fear, sources close to her cite. With the untimely death of her parents we can only suspect that Iwaizumi Hajime may have had something to do with that too—perhaps as a show of his power?_
> 
> _Iwaizumi Daisuke himself has refused to speak to the media, quoting that his son would “_ never _do something so outrageous” and that “Takeda Yuki’s accusations are a lie.” Who’s to believe though: the ruthless businessman who takes down affordable housing in order to provide office space for his unlawful friends or the only daughter of Japan’s largest chain of superstores?_
> 
> _As the rich like to say, money buys everything but when your wife is as affluent as they come, the truth is finally able to come out. Iwaizumi Hajime may be a martyr, but all would do well to take this as a lesson for his kind._

“Holy shit!” Bokuto yelps, voicing Oikawa’s reaction.

Akaashi shoots him a withering glare and he sobers up immediately.

“Oikawa… you know media outlets make things sound worse than they are for the views,” Akaashi tries to reason. “Besides, we both know  _this_  isn’t a reliable source,” he reminds, pointing to the tacky layout and sketchy advertisements littering the webpage.

“What’s there to ‘make worse’ when you’re an abusive spouse?” Oikawa asks angrily.

He’s beyond reason now.

“You don’t know that… this could all be fake. It’s the  _only_  article we saw,” Akaashi says hesitantly.

“That just makes it all the more suspicious,” Oikawa argues. “What if the newspapers were paid off remove what they wrote or keep it from appearing in the first place?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi’s never given him a reason to fear the older man, not physically anyway, but he feels frightened now. The lack of transparency worsens the situation.

Without the anticipation of finding out Iwaizumi’s past life through Google results, Oikawa can feel his phone going off again.

“You should answer it,” Bokuto says, pointing to his pant pocket where the outline of his phone is visible. “If it’s Iwaizumi, I think it’s better if you two talked and I’d prefer it if you talked in public. Tell him to come here if he’s looking for you,” Bokuto insists.

Compared to this morning, Oikawa’s less calm and he knows normally that would spell trouble. But he doesn’t want this drama in his life for longer than it has to be. It’s clouding his head, his thoughts, his  _heart_. As much as he wants to pretend that there isn’t anything to be worried about, there could be and it’s that anticipation that has him agreeing.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

He stands up and moves to the kitchen for some kind of privacy. When he pulls out his phone, he notices that he has thirty-seven missed calls from Iwaizumi, which he thinks is endearing for half a second before he concludes that it’s just plain excessive.

_“Oikawa? Shit, are you okay? You were sleeping when I left this morning but I came back an hour later and you were gone,”_  Iwaizumi says, voice slightly panicked.  _“Where’d you go?”_

“I’m fine,” Oikawa says curtly. “I wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t want to be alone.”

It’s not a lie. He still isn’t feeling well and while he doesn’t want to be alone, he’d rather not be with Iwaizumi either.

_“Where are you? Please don’t tell me you went back to your apartment. If you’re sick I don’t think it’s the best place for you to recover.”_

“I’m at Akaashi’s.”

_“You should have called me. I’d have come back if I knew you weren’t feeling well. Are you sure you’re okay?”_ Iwaizumi asks worriedly.  _“I told you not to hang around the house with no pants on,”_  he says lightly.

When Oikawa doesn’t laugh, Iwaizumi loses his teasing attitude.

_“Do you want me to come get you?”_  he asks seriously.

“You’ve got plans for the rest of the day,” Oikawa reminds.

_“I’ll cancel them,”_  Iwaizumi promises.  _“Tell me what you want?”_

What Oikawa  _wants_  is to go back to yesterday afternoon when he was blissfully unaware of Iwaizumi’s past. But he can’t have that and it’s not something Iwaizumi can provide either.

“I want to talk to you,” Oikawa says after a few moments of thought.

_“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”_  Iwaizumi asks, attempting to lighten the heavy tension with a joke again.

It doesn’t work this time either and the line goes silent again for a few seconds.

“I meant about something specific,” Oikawa clarifies.

_“Okay, do you want me to come over to Akaashi’s or do you want to come here?”_ he asks knowingly.

“The first option, please,” Oikawa says quietly.

_“I’ll call you when I’m here to let you know I’m coming up,”_ Iwaizumi agrees.

It’s not surprising that he knows Oikawa doesn’t want to talk outside. Iwaizumi’s tone grows concerned but he’s doing a good job of hiding that he’s nervous. Still, Oikawa can tell because his voice is hoarse and he sounds like he does when he’s craving a cigarette.

“Bye, Iwa-chan.”

He doesn’t know why he feels himself soften at the genuine concern in Iwaizumi’s voice but it does wonders on his anxious heart to hear Iwaizumi‘s nervous laugh.

“ _Bye Oikawa._ ”

When Oikawa returns to the living room, Akaashi and Bokuto are waiting for him. The kitchen is only separated by a wall with a small opening that acts as a door so they definitely heard Oikawa's conversation with Iwaizumi. Still, they don’t bring it up and Oikawa is grateful for their patience.

They pass the time talking about school and how their break is almost over. It’s a welcome distraction from the impending doom Iwaizumi’s arrival will bring and Oikawa allows himself to get lost in menial small talk.

It takes an hour for Iwaizumi to text Oikawa, asking him for Akaashi’s apartment number so he can come up. When he does show up, Oikawa's back is straight and his shoulders carry the cumulative weight of his worries since last night.

“Good afternoon, Oikawa said you were expecting me,” Iwaizumi greets Akaashi politely when he opens the front door.

“Yes,” Akaashi says gingerly.

Iwaizumi's friendliness wavers. He’s quick to notice that whatever it is that has Oikawa upset with him has his friend upset with him too. In Akaashi’s case, it’s more anger than displeasure.

If it isn’t for Bokuto who strides forward and pulls the door open, much to Akaashi’s chagrin, Oikawa doesn’t think Iwaizumi would be allowed in without being made to feel more embarrassed.

Oikawa ignores the silent argument Akaashi and Bokuto are having in favour of Iwaizumi who tries to find Oikawa's gaze. He offers Oikawa a small smile and Oikawa almost returns it before he realizes he’s got to keep up his stance if he wants to get the truth out of Iwaizumi.

But it’s hard to know how he’s supposed to act, especially when Akaashi turns his glare from Bokuto to Oikawa, urging him on. Akaashi’s angrier about the situation than Oikawa is, which is a little pathetic on Oikawa's part because how can he have so much faith in someone who he doesn’t even really know? But it also speaks volumes for Akaashi’s character. Oikawa chooses to focus on the latter.

“Let’s go outside,” Oikawa says quickly.

“Oikawa!” Akaashi shouts angrily.

He ignores Akaashi while Bokuto hushes him, and walks up to Iwaizumi who is still lingering in the genkan, shoes on, one hand held conspicuously behind his back.

Oikawa slips on his sneakers and tugs at the arm he can see, leading Iwaizumi out of the apartment. He knows he insisted that Iwaizumi come upstairs but he’s constricted by the space in the apartment and the number of people there. He doesn’t think he can speak honestly without trying to appease someone other than himself and he knows the only person who needs reassurance right now is him.

Iwaizumi is eerily silent as they take two flights of stairs down from the third floor to the first. Oikawa sees his Mercedes parked in the front and is grateful that Iwaizumi drove himself because the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be interrupted.

“I got something for you,” Iwaizumi says, when they get into the backseat of his car. He hands Oikawa the bag he was hiding behind his back earlier. “Because you said you were sick,” he explains.

Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck nervously while Oikawa takes the bag from him and peers inside. It’s filled with all his favourite things to eat: milk bread, chocolate biscuits, cola-flavoured gummies. But there’s also a box of ginger and honey tea, three pickled-plum onigiri and a glass bowl that’s still hot and smells distinctly like miso soup. So  _this_  is why it took Iwaizumi over an hour to get here.

It’s such a thoughtful gesture and Oikawa's never been one to snub a good effort so he takes the bag and thanks Iwaizumi for the kindness.

“Oikawa… I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi says hesitantly.

“What for?” Oikawa asks, putting the bag down.

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi admits. “But I clearly did something wrong to make you upset and I really  _am_  sorry.”

Oikawa makes a discomfited sound and Iwaizumi leans back into his seat, defeated.

“Shall I tell you why I’m upset?” Oikawa demands.

“Please,” Iwaizumi says tiredly, like he’s not sure how to handle the situation.

Oikawa’s sheepishness is fading and slowly being replaced by the anger he initially felt last night. Iwaizumi's attitude just makes it easier for Oikawa to be filled with apathy for the other man’s feelings. He’s not quite dismissive, but his lack of intuition on the topic is outrageous to Oikawa.

“You didn’t tell me you were married—are still married. I’m not really sure,” Oikawa admits. “But that’s a pretty big secret  _especially_  when your marriage may have ended on account of domestic violence.”

Oikawa knows he’s hit a nerve when he mentions the topic of his marriage and its reason for falling through. Iwaizumi's jaw clenches tighter with every words he speaks until Oikawa's certain that if he does it any harder he’s going to lock his jaw from misuse.

Iwaizumi leans forward and places his hands on his knees, tightening his grip till his knuckles turn white. Oikawa tries not to eye the way he’s restraining himself. 

“I don’t know who the fuck told you that happened but it’s  _not_ true. I can’t fucking believe you!” he shouts.

It’s hard to forget that although Oikawa's the taller one between the two, Iwaizumi's much stronger but when the vein in his temple throbs and Iwaizumi's fists tighten from the force of his wrath, Oikawa  _does_  remember that he’s got massive strength that he’s keeping at bay.

Iwaizumi follows the line of Oikawa's sight to his arms. He’s wearing a black Gingham shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and when he notices the fear in Oikawa's gaze, he immediately sobers up, the thought of frightening Oikawa reeling him back to reality.

“But you  _were_  married,” Oikawa states when Iwaizumi falls silent, rage subsiding.

“Not by choice,” he says bitterly.

Oikawa doesn’t know what that means. Just when he’s about to ask, Iwaizumi continues.

“My father arranged the whole thing. I was only twenty and still in university. One day, I came home from school expecting to do some homework, go out with my friends and instead, my new family was at my house, greeting me as their son-in-law. My father basically sold me off to expand his business,” Iwaizumi recalls angrily.

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa's voice wavers.

This isn’t what he expected. He didn’t think he was going to end up the guilty party between the two but Iwaizumi's explanation leaves Oikawa gutted.

  
Iwaizumi ignores him, eyes staring ahead at the back of the driver’s seat with determination.

“He threatened to cut me off if I didn’t do what he said. My father knew I didn’t even like girls but this was his way to solve two problems at once. It’s embarrassing and fucking  _stupid_  to admit now but I always had a privileged life. I equated success to money and without it, I couldn’t even begin to think who I’d be anymore—how I’d survive. Pathetic, right?” he laughs bitterly. “So I gave in, got married in March after second year—the “perfect spring wedding—” but the moment the deed was done I knew I had made a mistake.”

Oikawa hesitantly reaches out to tug at Iwaizumi's arm until Iwaizumi relents and faces him. His eyes are sad and Oikawa knows that someone who feels this much remorse can’t have done something as terrible as the news article made it seem. Unless Iwaizumis’ secretly a psychopath but Oikawa doesn’t believe that.

“Yuki was nice enough for the first two months but when I wouldn’t sleep with her she became angry and resently. She wasn’t planning on finishing school; she wanted to start a family. Obviously, I didn’t. The pressing concern of finishing my studies aside, I didn’t like her and I wasn’t going to make her life miserable by becoming an unwilling father.”

“Iwa-chan, you don’t have to… I believe you,” Oikawa promises.

“No, I  _want_  to. And I should have told you a long time ago,” Iwaizumi reassures. “Kuroo was the only one who knew how I really felt. When he saw an IVF pamphlet in Yuki’s car, he finally lost it. I didn’t think she was crazy, but Kuroo at least  convinced me that my life was nothing even with money if I didn’t at least have my dignity.”

The more Oikawa hears about Iwaizumi’s hopefully  _ex_ -wife, the more he dislikes her. No one is so stupid that they don’t know their partner is unhappy with them. She came from a family with money of their own so she can’t have been married to Iwaizumi for that, but maybe for the prestige? Maybe his looks? Maybe she really did fall in love with him… Oikawa tries not to think about that though.

“I made up my mind to gather divorce papers but halfway through it, Yuki’s parents died in a car accident and it made me rethink my decision. After all, how could I throw away someone who didn’t have anyone left to support her? But I didn’t get rid of the divorce papers like the idiot I am and tried to wait for a good time to bring them up. She found them before I could ask for a divorce and didn’t tell me that she had. Then she sold some stupid, fucking story to the media about how I would hit her, and she implied that I organized the crash that caused her parents’ deaths,” Iwaizumi laughs wryly.

“She sounds like a bitch,” Oikawa admits.

“That’s putting it nicely,” Iwaizumi scoffs. “She actually went ahead and filed for divorce before I could, citing infidelity. I may not have wanted to be married to her but I  _never_  cheated on her and I hope you know I  _would never_  cheat on anyone I’m with,” Iwaizumi says fiercely. “My father was smart enough to make us sign a prenup so she didn’t get anything out of it except for attempting to ruin my name. It worked too, for a few years, but I worked hard to stay out of the spotlight in the time since,” Iwaizumi sighs.

“What happened to Yuki?” Oikawa asks curiously.

“Who the fuck knows. My father asked Kuroo to get rid of her and he did,” Iwaizumi shrugs. “My father may have ruined my life for a while but I have to give it to him: he tried really hard to get my image back. Maybe because it inadvertently affected his but I try not to think about that,” Iwaizumi says sadly.

“He didn’t… he didn’t actually  _get rid of her_ , right?”

Iwaizumi meets Oikawa's gaze and for a moment, Oikawa thinks he’s going to tell him he’s absolutely right but he suddenly starts laughing. He leans down to put his head on Oikawa's shoulder and Oikawa can feel the vibration of his laugh run through his whole body.

Oikawa doesn’t know if Iwaizumi's laughing because it’s true or because he can’t believe Oikawa's asked such a ridiculous question. It doesn’t stop Oikawa from bringing a hand up to card through Iwaizumi's hair in apology.

“If you’re asking if he killed her then of course not,” Iwaizumi smiles, pulling back.

“It was a legitimate question!” Oikawa defends.

The type of people Iwaizumi knows, Oikawa wouldn’t be surprised if Takeda Yuki  _was_  dead. He’s glad to hear that she’s not, even if she’s a terrible person.

“I know,” Iwaizumi agrees. “Kuroo's not like that though I’m sure if you asked my father he probably would have preferred it if she died,” he admits. “He passed away when I was twenty-seven though so he can’t control any aspects of my life anymore.”

“Good,” Oikawa confirms. “Not that he dies but that he can’t control your life,” Oikawa corrects.

“I know,” Iwaizumi reassures.

He hates that Iwaizumi was steamrolled into making such a big life decision without his forthright consent. Iwaizumi may not have argued but he wasn’t exactly given an easy choice. Oikawa knows if their roles were reversed the decision would have been easy for him but then again, he didn’t grow up with the same luxury Iwaizumi did so he doesn’t think it speaks badly about Iwaizumi’s character at all.

Now that Iwaizumi’s told him everything there is to know, Oikawa’s unsure of what else to say. Iwaizumi's story makes sense but above all, it’s  _true_. He knows now that the Takeda surname on Iwaizumi's paper lantern represents Yuki’s parents and as sad as it is that Iwaizumi still feels obliged to remember them, Oikawa also feels proud of Iwaizumi's strong sense of morality.

He buries his face in Iwaizumi's arm and squeezes him in a tight hug. When Iwaizumi returns the affection, Oikawa feels relieved that he hasn’t ruined everything between them with his accusations.

“I’m really sorry, Iwa-chan. I shouldn’t have accused you of lying and I know you’re not a bad guy and I’m also sorry I let myself believe that, even for a little while,” Oikawa apologizes. “ _And_  I’m sorry for going through the pictures on your laptop, which is how I found out you were married in the first place but I  _swear_  it was an accident I didn’t even mean to click the photo album it just—”

Iwaizumi cuts Oikawa's rambling off with a firm kiss, hand snaking behind Oikawa's neck to cup him close. Oikawa lets out a surprised squeak but it soon turns into a moan when he feels Iwaizumi's lips pry his own open.

It’s been less than a day since they’ve kissed but Oikawa’s missed it. He missed all of it, from just being in Iwaizumi's company to talking to him to being intimate. Iwaizumi's a good lover but Oikawa's reassured now that he’s a good person too.

“What was that for?” Oikawa asks, breathless when they pull apart.

“The way you found out may not have been ideal but I am glad you know now. No more secrets,” he promises.

“None?” Oikawa teases.

Iwaizumi pretends to think about it. “Maybe just a few, but none as big as this,” he laughs, thumb brushing over Oikawa's cheekbone.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Oikawa hums.

He’s content with what knowledge he does have of Iwaizumi and by Iwaizumi's treatment of him.

“Then don’t go snooping through my laptop,” Iwaizumi chides.

“Hey!” Oikawa shouts, appalled, “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he insists.

“Hmm,” Iwaizumi nods, though he doesn’t quite look like he believes Oikawa.

Or maybe he’s doing it to rile Oikawa up. Either way, it’s working.

“I fixed it though, didn’t I?” Oikawa asks proudly. “Iwa-chan thought I was stupid,” he sighs sadly.

“No, I just didn’t want you to waste your free time on something you didn't want to do,” Iwaizumi clucks his tongue in disapproval.

“Why’d you still have those photos anyway?” Oikawa asks.

It’s the last thing that’s nagging at him. He just wants to know that Iwaizumi doesn’t have any feelings for his ex-wife.

“Honestly? I didn’t even know they were on there,” he admits.

“Can I delete them?” Oikawa asks.

He hopes he doesn’t sound strange but Iwaizumi’s smile is reassuring.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi agrees easily, laughing.

The speed with which he answered Oikawa’s question puts Oikawa in a better mood too.

“Or I’ll print them out and burn them,” Oikawa suggests.

He’s only half-joking but Iwaizumi laughs at his suggestion all the same.

“You should ask Kuroo to help with that. He hated her,” Iwaizumi admits.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk to Kuroo unnecessarily? Something about him being a pervert?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow.

“He is,” Iwaizumi scowls, obviously remembering something that Oikawa’s not privy to. “But you can do whatever you want. I really like you Oikawa and I am really sorry about keeping this from you. I promise to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

He runs his hand through Oikawa's hair, fingers massaging his scalp gently. After the sleepless night he had, Iwaizumi's ministrations are making him drowsy.

“Mmm, then can I go back to your place? I’m really tired,” Oikawa admits.

He wants to tell Iwaizumi that there’s nothing to make it up to him for, but he knows the other man better than that by now. Besides, Oikawa thinks he likes being spoiled just a little.

“I thought you were sick,” Iwaizumi quips.

“I am! Feel my forehead,” Oikawa says.

He brings the back of Iwaizumi's hand up to his forehead to make him feel for a fever. Oikawa's not sure he has one but when Iwaizumi's face suddenly turns serious, he feels his heart drop to his stomach. He doesn’t actually want to be sick during his vacation.

“Definitely feels like you’ve got a fever,” Iwaizumi says seriously.

“Really?” Oikawa asks. He moves Iwaizumi's hand out of the way and brings his own up to feel for the warmth but there’s nothing there except for the mild temperature his forehead usually is. “Quit teasing, there’s nothing there,” he frowns.

“I’m serious,” Iwaizumi insists, “and I know just how to make you feel better.”

The wicked grin Oikawa gets in response to that statement is enough to make his forehead, and his whole face for that matter, burn hot. Whatever fever he didn’t have is certainly there now and Iwaizumi's quick to capitalize on it.

“Let’s go home,” Iwaizumi says. “I’ll show you how much I missed you  _and_  how sorry I am while I’m at it.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agrees.

He doesn’t bother to remind Iwaizumi that he can’t have possibly missed him when it’s been only half a day because he feels the same way.

Oikawa scoots over into the passenger seat from the back because he’s too lazy to open the door and walk out. Iwaizumi teases him for it but he also follows up his half-hearted jibe with a firm slap to his ass that has Oikawa yelping.

Iwaizumi finds pleasure in Oikawa's protests, but they die down throughout the trip home and Iwaizumi’s more than happy to make Oikawa scream again though when they’re in the privacy of his bedroom to make up for the night before and that morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, please enjoy some wholesome fluff after the last two chapters of ups and downs <3

“You know,” Iwaizumi says irritably, “when I said you could pick anywhere to go I really did mean  _anywhere_.”

He’s uncomfortable in his seat even though they’re sitting in first class on the plane where it’s spacious enough. His discomfort is only heightened by the large, blue eyes of the four-year old in the seat in front of him. The young girl’s mother is unaware that her child is standing up in her seat,  turned around and staring Iwaizumi down with her woeful gaze. No matter how many times he tries to look away, Iwaizumi cannot.

It should have been fine because Oikawa’s sitting next to him, but unfortunately for Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s too engrossed with playing some  _stupid_  game on his  _stupid_  PSP.

The flight from Tokyo to Hokkaido is only an hour and half but it’s been forty-five minutes now and Iwaizumi is beyond restless. His left leg hasn’t stopped tapping the ground since they took flight and he doesn’t expect to calm down until they’ve landed on solid ground.

“I know,” Oikawa agrees without paying attention.

He doesn’t look up from the screen practically stuck to his face and it irks Iwaizumi to be ignored like that.

Especially when this little girl is  _still_  looking at him expectantly and Iwaizumi has nowhere to divert his attention. Why can’t her mother just tell her to sit the fuck down? And where the hell is the air hostess who is even letting the child stand up when the sign above them says to remain seated?

“I meant internationally too,” Iwaizumi frowns.

He’s a little doubtful that his message got across the first time.

“I know what  _anywhere_  means, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says dismissively. “Fuck,  _no_ , not there you stupid piece of shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Iwaizumi hates Oikawa’s dumb video game. He hates having Oikawa’s attention anywhere but on him when he’s craving it. The flight is too long for Iwaizumi’s standards and the longer Oikawa ignores him, the more impatient Iwaizumi grows.

Losing his patience, he finally leans over and grabs the PSP out of Oikawa’s hand, bringing it down to his side and away from Oikawa’s reach. The game vibrates hard a few times before he hears an array of crashes, machines guns, and creative curses until it finally falls silent.

“I was playing that,” Oikawa scolds, holding his hand out for the game.

Iwaizumi stubbornly grips the PSP harder.

“Why Hokkaido?” he asks, steering the conversation towards something he can participate in.

He doesn’t think Oikawa playing mindless games is good for him. It certainly isn't good for the child in the seat in front of them who is likely to pick up on the curse words fast. Not that her mother seems to care; the woman is typing away on her phone, child forgotten.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” Oikawa shrugs. The answer sounds practiced, like he was expecting it. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Iwaizumi’s jittery behaviour.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Iwaizumi scoffs.

“Are you afraid of flying?” Oikawa asks slowly.

He looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh and that pisses Iwaizumi off more. He’s not  _afraid_ —he just doesn’t like it. There’s a clear difference between the two in his mind.

“ _No_ ,” he denies with a little too much force.

“It’s a good thing I’m low maintenance, huh? Hokkaido isn’t even far. What would you have done if I said I wanted to go to Spain or something?” Oikawa teases.

“Low-maintenance,  _hah_ ,” Iwaizumi laughs.

Oikawa’s the most high maintenance person he’s met and Iwaizumi loves every minute of it. He loves being able to spoil him, to make him happy, to see that stupid bright smile on his face light up his eyes. Hell, Iwaizumi  _wants_  Oikawa to be high maintenance so he can give him everything and make him happy all the damn time.

“Hey!” Oikawa pouts, poking his arm for the jibe.

“Maybe your lifestyle,” Iwaizumi concedes, “but certainly not your personality.”

Oikawa’s jaw drops at Iwaizumi’s teasing, nose wrinkling into a cute frown.

Iwaizumi has to resist the urge to pull at it lest he pisses off Oikawa and he has to go back to spending the flight in ignored silence. He doesn’t think he can take another forty-five minutes of ignorance.

“Just because you took my game doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to you now,” Oikawa says stubbornly.

Iwaizumi scowls at Oikawa’s comment. It’s the fact that he can read Iwaizumi that makes him tetchy rather than Oikawa’s threat itself.

Oikawa crosses his arms over his chest and turns his head to physically snub Iwaizumi. But then he catches sight of the young girl in the seat in front who is now staring at him rather than Iwaizumi and his attention finds a new target.

“Oh, hello!” Oikawa waves, holding his palm out.

The girl smiles and takes it, wrapping her hand around his fingers and tugging. She giggles when Oikawa reaches out and ruffles her dark hair. Iwaizumi remains impassive at the look.

“Isn’t she cute, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks.

Ridiculous. He’s forgotten that he was ignoring Iwaizumi over this small child. And no, he does not think she’s cute. She was staring at him blankly only a few moments ago and now she’s all smiles and doe-eyes— _unfair_.

“No,” Iwaizumi says stubbornly.

Oikawa throws him an appalled look. “What kind of a person doesn’t think kids are cute?” Oikawa gasps.

“They’re not. They’re messy and dirty and they cry all the time. You can’t talk to them like you can adults and it’s frustrating when they just scream at you because they don’t know how to speak yet,” he states.

“Iwa-chan, that’s the point. They’re  _kids_. They don’t know what they’re doing yet, don’t be so mean,” he chides, turning away from Iwaizumi. “Weren’t you ever a kid?”

Iwaizumi thinks that maybe he should have agreed that the girl is cute—maybe then Oikawa would give him the time of day. Objectively, she  _is_  cute but Iwaizumi’s driven himself down a hole and he refuses to climb out now.  His annoyance is short-lived because the girl’s mother finally notices her child is incorrectly seated and turns around to find her hand in Oikawa’s, Oikawa aiding her to make small jumps in her seat.

“Excuse me, I’d prefer it if you didn’t touch my child,” the woman bristles.

Oikawa lets go immediately but not without sticking his tongue out at the mother of the child when she turns around. She scolds her daughter for talking to strangers and buckles her back into her seat, then resumes typing away on her phone.

“What a snooty bitch,” Oikawa says, just loud enough for the woman to hear. “Is this what everyone is like in first class?” he asks Iwaizumi, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Iwaizumi resists the urge to laugh because Oikawa is genuinely miffed by the woman’s treatment. He doesn’t tell Oikawa that everyone in first class is not like this because he has a feeling Oikawa doesn’t mean his comment.

At least, he hopes Oikawa doesn’t mean it.

When Oikawa first told him he’d like to go to Hokkaido, Iwaizumi was confused. He only ever flied to Hokkaido for work-related business and although the prefecture is beautiful, it’s not the first place that comes to mind when he thinks of a vacation.

But Oikawa was serious and the worst part was that he thought they could just take the train, as if flying wasn’t even an option he considered.

Iwaizumi’s still not quite convinced that Oikawa  _does_  know he could have picked anywhere in the world to go but he’s happy to be able to spend some time with him, especially after their minor falling out a few days ago.

Obon is over and the decorations that came with it are now gone too. With it, returned Oikawa’s usual enthusiasm, which was only heightened by their upcoming vacation. He did manage to get a few days off from work without Iwaizumi’s help but Iwaizumi isn’t sure he can say the same for himself.

He let his direct-reporting team know that he’s going to be away but he can almost guarantee that someone will send him an e-mail or request a teleconference. Iwaizumi is adamant to keep that at bay for as long as he can though. As much as he thinks of himself as a workaholic, he has someone who doesn’t make him want to spend all his time in the office now.

Just that morning Oikawa quietly admitted to him that this would be his first vacation in eight years and Iwaizumi isn’t going to ruin it on his account, and  _especially_  not because he has to work.

“This just further goes to show why I’m justified in not liking kids. They don’t know how to tell what’s right and wrong and then their badgering parents get in the way,” Iwaizumi says.

“Don’t blame that little girl for her terrible mother,” Oikawa reprimands.

It’s clear now that Oikawa just wanted to play with her. Iwaizumi is the slightest bit jealous that Oikawa would rather pay a stranger more attention than him when he’s right there but he’s willing to put that feeling aside when Oikawa’s hand finds his restless leg.

He places his hand on Iwaizumi’s thigh and rubs over the material of his pants soothingly until the feel of Oikawa’s hand causes Iwaizumi to stop fidgeting. Iwaizumi sighs back into his seat, placated by Oikawa’s gentle touches. He thinks he’d be happy sitting in silence like this, but of course the moment is too good to last long.

“Can I have my game back?” Oikawa asks quietly.

“ _Why_?” Iwaizumi scowls.

“Because it’s fun,” Oikawa says bluntly.

“What’s fun about smashing buttons on a tiny screen?” Iwaizumi retorts.

“You’re just being stubborn because you don’t know how to play,” Oikawa deadpans. “Give it here, Iwa-chan. I’ll show you,” he holds his hand out expectantly.

Iwaizumi reluctantly gives in, if only because he is a little curious to know what’s so amusing about video games. He was never allowed to play them as a child, his father deeming it far beneath his intelligence. By the time Iwaizumi could make up his own mind to play them he just didn’t care to.

He does feel like he missed out on a vital part of his childhood and he supposes it’s better to have Oikawa show him now than anyone else.

“Here,” he says, holding the pink device up for Oikawa to take.

Oikawa grins victoriously. “Hold it like this,” he instructs.

He puts the game in Iwaizumi’s hand and bends his fingers until they grip the device firm but still flexible. Oikawa shows him what each of the buttons do, how he needs to get his avatar to move, the shortcuts on the game and its overall purpose too.

Iwaizumi barely pays attention to the words coming out of Oikawa’s mouth because his lips are distracting and his focus is cute and there are so many other things Iwaizumi would rather do than play a dumb video game.

Since they’re in public though with nowhere to retreat for privacy, and because there’s only a half hour left until they land, he indulges Oikawa. Iwaizumi doesn’t quite understand the game but Oikawa’s enthusiasm at being able to teach him something makes him complacent.

When they get off the plane, it’s 1 pm, and they’ve got an hour left until they’re due to check in at their hotel. After Oikawa’s pick of Hokkaido, Iwaizumi refused to let him choose their accommodations as well.

Sometimes, it feels like Oikawa is afraid to spend Iwaizumi’s money. The amount on his credit card bill that Iwaizumi paid off this month gives his suspicions some substance.

But this is supposed to be a vacation and Iwaizumi promised to spend time with Oikawa so he’s not going to cheap out. Especially because Oikawa’s uncharacteristically shy about it and that just makes Iwaizumi want to indulge him more.

As Hokkaido’s capital, Sapporo is accordingly populated. It’s the middle of the day on a Tuesday but it’s also peak tourism season and the schools are out for holidays so there’s lot of traffic.Still, Oikawa is excited and that makes Iwaizumi excited in turn.

Sapporo isn’t much different from Tokyo though there is more greenery and the view of the mountains from the city centre is picturesque. Iwaizumi has to admit it’s a nice place and although it’s not his first pick for a holiday destination, he’ll still be able to enjoy it.

Their hotel is close to the airport and they’ve got fifteen minutes left until they can check in by the time they’re dropped off at the front and have their luggage in hand.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asks, eyebrows knit in confusion.

“To check in?” Iwaizumi says unsurely.

“Iwa-chan, shouldn’t you know proper protocol? You can’t check into a hotel before the time specified on your booking,” Oikawa informs.

“What’s fifteen minutes going to do?” Iwaizumi laughs.

He’s been to this hotel before and he’s sure that no one will mind at this rate.

Oikawa throws him a look that’s skeptical at best but he shrugs and leans down to lug his suitcase behind Iwaizumi, anyway. Iwaizumi tried taking it from Oikawa at the airport but he insisted he would look weird just trailing behind like an errand boy.

It didn’t even make sense to Iwaizumi what Oikawa meant because he was the one carrying all their luggage so how did that make  _Oikawa_  the errand boy? But Oikawa was wearing a fiercely determined look, mind made up, so Iwaizumi let the trivial argument rest.

“Excuse me,” Iwaizumi greets the receptionist politely.

She’s busy scribbling something down on a piece of paper and only looks up when Iwaizumi clears his throat, surprised to find two people standing before her. Or well, one person because Oikawa’s hovering off to the side looking sheepish for some reason.

“Oh, Iwaizumi-san, can I help you?” she asks, clasping her hands on the desk in front of her.

Iwaizumi’s seen this receptionist before and as always, he’s not surprised that she only pays him attention when she recognizes him. But he’s long since learned to ignore people like that. Iwaizumi only feels bad that Oikawa has to witness this.

“Uh, we’d like to check,” he points to Oikawa and himself and then her computer.

The woman nods and starts typing away until she finds Iwaizumi’s name. “Ah yes, here we are,” she hums, reading through the description. “You’re in the Royal Suite on the top floor with a wonderful view of the ocean. I see you’re upgrading this time,” she winks.

Obviously, he’s upgrading. Can’t she see he’s here with someone else?

The answer is apparently not, because the receptionist bats her eyelashes and says to him, “You know Iwaizumi-san, you’re a few minutes early. If you’d like, I can help you set up and give you a tour of the room.”

“No thank you,” Iwaizumi says awkwardly.

Growing up, Iwaizumi was forced to go to many parties that his father set up, the daughters of his peers flung at him in herds. When Iwaizumi started working at his father’s company, it was the same but with potential business partners who wanted to sleep with him.

He’s not stupid; he may not like women but he’s not unaware when they want something from him and he’s certainly not interested. He doesn’t like the insincerity of the offer anyway.

“Are you sure? It may be difficult to find what you’re looking for in such a large room,” the woman persists.

“I’m sure we’ll manage to find things between the two of us,” he smiles, jerking his head back to where Oikawa’s standing. “And I don’t think it’s wise to leave your post,” he adds flatly.

The woman’s lips twitch but she nods stiffly, handing over a set of card keys for the room to Iwaizumi.

“Oikawa, come on.”

Iwaizumi waves him over from the lobby and hands him both of the cards in his hands.

He doesn’t look back at the front desk but he can feel the woman’s eyes on him even as they leave. He’s used to this kind of behaviour from people when they find out he has money but that doesn’t mean that he enjoys being objectified for his wealth.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Oikawa complains.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, thinking he’s done something to warrant that kind of a reaction from Oikawa.

“Nothing,” Oikawa says dismissively.

Iwaizumi doesn’t push it. He’s far too busy thinking about how he can avoid seeing that receptionist for the rest of their stay to notice Oikawa’s mood sour. But when they place their luggage against the wall next to the door of their hotel suite and Oikawa hasn’t spoken a word since the lobby, Iwaizumi starts to worry.

“What is it? You don’t like this place?” Iwaizumi asks.

It’s a big room and he’s wary that he may have gone overboard. But then again, his apartment is bigger and Oikawa doesn’t seem to mind being there.

“No, it’s nice,” Oikawa nods.

He takes his shoes off and trudges towards the bed, flopping onto the mattress on his stomach. Oikawa stretches his body like a starfish and it’s cute but Iwaizumi can’t appreciate Oikawa’s behaviour when he’s worried about starting the vacation off on the wrong foot.

After Oikawa found out about his past marriage and the attempted scandal to ruin his name, Iwaizumi was certain it would take a lot more to mend their relationship. He knew he hadn’t lied to Oikawa but he  _had_  kept the truth from him, which was close enough to lying. Even he knows it was a shitty thing to do, and he’s a businessman.

But Oikawa was quick to forgive Iwaizumi and now, Iwaizumi’s starting to feel like maybe he was too hopeful—that maybe  _that_  was just the calm before the storm.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying it,” Iwaizumi points out.

He takes a seat on the bed next to Oikawa, and rubs a hand up his back. It’s hot outside and Oikawa’s taken to barely wearing clothes when he’s home with Iwaizumi. But he’s wearing clothes now and Iwaizumi is having a difficult time not slipping his fingers underneath Oikawa’s t-shirt so he can trace the length of his spine.

“Hnngh,” Oikawa says dismissively.

He folds his arms on the bed and tucks his chin on them, head facing the wooden headboard. While Oikawa’s not exactly verbally responsive, he also doesn’t wiggle away from Iwaizumi’s touch, which is a good sign as far as Iwaizumi is concerned.

“What did I do?” Iwaizumi prompts.

“Nothing,” Oikawa insists.

“Well I must have done something because you were fine up until we got to the hotel. It can’t be that you’re mad we checked in  _early_ ,” Iwaizumi says skeptically.

“Of course it’s not that,” Oikawa berates. “I’m not a child, Iwa-chan, but then again, you might as well think I am considering how you treated me in the lobby.”

“What?” Iwaizumi asks stupidly.

Oikawa makes a frustrated sound and ducks his head back into the mattress, hiding his flush. It’s no use though when Iwaizumi can see that his ears are burning red. Oikawa’s words are angry but his tone sounds more annoyed.

“What did I do in the lobby?” Iwaizumi asks when Oikawa makes it clear he’s not going to humour him with a response.

He hears Oikawa say something but his words are muffled and Iwaizumi doesn’t ask him to repeat his words because he thinks he understands what Oikawa’s talking about.

Iwaizumi hides the smile that’s lingering on his face before he pushes himself up on the bed until he’s hovering over Oikawa before he lowers himself so that half his weight is on the younger man underneath. He’s careful to keep the other half of his weight on his forearms because he doesn’t truly want to hurt Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa scolds, shooting up.

He almost hits Iwaizumi in the face with his head but Iwaizumi’s quick to duck to the side just in time.

“Now who’s being childish?” Iwaizumi asks.

“ _You_ ,” Oikawa says seriously.

“That’s the point,” Iwaizumi concludes.

He rolls off to the side and is met by a curious look from Oikawa. But Oikawa also no longer looks annoyed and he’s turned over to face Iwaizumi so that’s progress.

“There is absolutely no reason why you should be jealous or feel threatened by someone else,” Iwaizumi says before Oikawa can argue. “And if you were standing closer instead of lingering so far back you’d have heard me refer to you more than once,” he adds.

Oikawa hums thoughtfully, but then he goes right back to being stubborn.

“But she was really pretty,” Oikawa admits. “ _And_  she was just your type.”

Iwaizumi isn't sure he has a type; not when Oikawa’s around and makes Iwaizumi question what he does and doesn't like. Maybe that makes his type  _Oikawa_.

“Too bad I’ve got you,” Iwaizumi laughs. “And you’re missing the vital fact that she’s a woman.”

Oikawa places a hand under his chin and holds his head up. “What about the bellhop then? He was also checking you out and he’s much closer to your age,” Oikawa adds, ignoring Iwaizumi’s initial comment.

Iwaizumi’s lips twitch in an almost smile. Oikawa’s been nothing but confident ever since Iwaizumi met him. Hell, he’s been confident even before Iwaizumi met him. There isn’t a single person who doesn’t notice Oikawa wherever he goes and Iwaizumi is no exception to that rule. Even before Iwaizumi had the chance to speak to him, Oikawa’s been on his radar.

At first, he felt strange staring at someone so much younger than him whenever he passed by in his ridiculously handsome work uniform and he convinced himself that Oikawa was off limits. Iwaizumi didn’t want to be classified as a creep, and he was fine accepting that he’d get nowhere near Oikawa.

But when Oikawa indulged Iwaizumi’s conversation and let him into his life, Iwaizumi was happy to say screw it to the difference. Oikawa was above the age of consent and as long as he liked Iwaizumi, that was all that really mattered.

Hearing Oikawa bring up the age difference now makes Iwaizumi’s stomach knot unpleasantly.

“Do you care about that I’m older than you?” he asks nervously.

“No.” Oikawa’s quick answer appeases him if only a little. “Do  _you_  care that I’m so much younger?” Oikawa questions.

“Of course not,” Iwaizumi shakes his head.

The smile he gets from Oikawa makes the rest of his nervousness disappear.

“I knew it, Iwa-chan’s a pervert,” Oikawa sighs fondly, rolling onto the bed on his back.

He kicks up when Iwaizumi tackles him at the pervert comment and tries to wriggle out of Iwaizumi’s grasp but Iwaizumi’s got a firm hold on him and isn’t planning on letting him go anytime soon.

Oikawa’s shouts die down when Iwaizumi kisses him soundly. When they pull apaernfor breath Iwaizumi doesn’t waste any time in finding a new place to kiss.

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa sighs happily when Iwaizumi traces kisses down his neck.

Iwaizumi’s hands are on Oikawa’s stomach, his hips, his chest, then they’re pulling down his pants and boxers. Oikawa’s breaths are hitched by the time his cock comes free, and Iwaizumi teases him with just the slightest bit of pressure. 

“You still think I’m a pervert?” Iwaizumi asks, just as Oikawa relaxes under Iwaizumi’s touch.

“Oh my god,” Oikawa complains. “You’re going to do this  _now_?” he asks, horrified.

The appalled look on Oikawa’s face is enough satisfaction that Iwaizumi doesn’t argue or tease him any further. Instead, he takes Oikawa into his mouth and shows him just why he has no reason to feel jealous.

Oikawa’s previous complaints are forgotten in an instant, replaced by muffled little moans that have them both panting with want.

* * *

There are plenty of things to do in Sapporo from the various outdoor onsen to the nature to the man-made tourist attractions but when the sun sets, Iwaizumi finds himself with Oikawa back in their hotel suite as Oikawa leans over the balcony overlooking the city skyline and Iwaizumi does his best to reel him back in.

He’s never seen Oikawa drink before and Iwaizumi now realizes that’s a good thing.

They spent most of their day about the downtown core, walking around and trying the local food. The few times Iwaizumi’s been to Sapporo, he’s never really ventured out. His trips have revolved around meeting clients and going out for dinner and drinks.

Exploring Sapporo with Oikawa is completely different. Oikawa was quick to find the best places to eat that served local food, claiming that the cheapest food was the best food when it came down to it. Iwaizumi is starting to think he’s right; the jingisukan they had off a cart in a back alley is probably the best Iwaizumi’s had.

He only hopes now that Oikawa doesn’t throw it up.

When they returned to their hotel room after a full day out, they were met by a cart full of Sapporo beer, courtesy of the hotel, along with a bottle of champagne. Iwaizumi isn’t above having a drink or two so when Oikawa cautiously popped open the tab of a beer can, he didn’t say anything; it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong.

By the time they found themselves outside, Iwaizumi thinks maybe he should have anticipated this. Oikawa’s hesitancy, the way he kept looking at Iwaizumi for approval and the fact that in the month they’ve known one another Oikawa’s never once picked up a drink were all signs. If only Iwaizumi wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see them.

The balcony has a great view of the city along with the mountain landscape behind it. Oikawa mentioned wanting to go hiking at some point but right now, all Iwaizumi can think about is getting him away from the edge.

Oikawa’s only had two beers but it’s clearly too much because his face is glowing pink and his eyes are glassy. But he’s smiling and it’s hard for Iwaizumi to convince himself that this is a problem when Oikawa looks so cute.

“I can see  _everything_  from here,” he says, mesmerized by the bright lights illuminating the city below.

Iwaizumi can’t appreciate the sight when he has a firm hold on Oikawa’s t-shirt, pulling him back into his embrace.

“You can see everything sitting down too,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“Maybe, but this is more fun,” Oikawa shrugs. “You ever watch  _Titanic_?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” Iwaizumi frowns.

“Iwa-chan,  _I’m flying_ ,” Oikawa quotes from the movie.

He spreads his arms out and leans over the balcony railing. Iwaizumi’s already got a firm grip on the back of Oikawa’s shirt but he uses a second hand to soothe his own worries.

“You do realize that Jack dies, right? It’s not a happy ending,” Iwaizumi reminds.

Oikawa immediately steps away from the balcony, his earlier enthusiasm forgotten. Iwaizumi thinks he’s said something wrong but he doesn’t know  _what_  so he watches helplessly as Oikawa tucks himself into a chair, legs coming up to his chest.

“You can’t always have a happy ending, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says sadly.

Iwaizumi nervously takes the seat next to Oikawa. the plush, white cushions that back the seat don’t provide any comfort when Oikawa so obviously has something on his mind.

“Are you talking about us?” Iwaizumi asks.

He hates that he’s been on edge, waiting for something bad to happen so that Oikawa can call it quits. It feels like déjà vu because they just had this conversation earlier that afternoon and Iwaizumi  _thought_  it was over then. But thankfully, Oikawa shakes his head.

“No,” he denies. “I was talking about my parents.”

“My parents didn’t have a happy ending either,” Iwaizumi says, hoping to lessen the burden.

He’s not really sure he can call it that when he’s never known who his mother is but he doesn’t want Oikawa to feel alone.

“That just makes me feel worse,” Oikawa frowns.

Iwaizumi feels a stab of hurt at the comment though he knows Oikawa’s words aren’t meant to make him feel bad.

“You asked why I wanted to go to Hokkaido so badly… Well, the last vacation I had was in Hokkaido though we definitely didn’t stay in a hotel this nice,” he chuckles quietly. “My mom got sick after that, then my dad started gambling and then he died so no more vacations,” Oikawa sighs.

Now Iwaizumi feels stupid for questioning Oikawa over his choice of vacation destination. He didn’t realize there was a meaning behind Oikawa’s desire to return to the prefecture. He regrets ever teasing him. But Oikawa doesn’t seem to care much about that, which is as much of a blessing as Iwaizumi feels he’s going to get.

“Hokkaido’s a nice place,” Iwaizumi says, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“You didn’t seem to think so when I first mentioned it,” Oikawa laughs. “Thanks, though,” he says.

“No I mean it, it  _is_  a nice place. I just never took the time to appreciate it,” Iwaizumi admits. “Come here,” Iwaizumi says, beckoning Oikawa over.

He holds his hand out for Oikawa to take. They’re sitting side by side in different chairs but when Oikawa takes Iwaizumi’s hand, he guides him over and makes space for him on his lap.

Oikawa’s not light but the warmth that comes with his weight is comforting. Iwaizumi likes knowing he’s got the solidity, both figuratively and literally speaking.

“Tomorrow we’ll go hiking in Jozankei, then the day after there’s the Hokkaido shrine. I heard they’ve got vendors that sell BBQ squid up the path to the shrine and I know how much you love street food,” he smiles, putting his face to the back of Oikawa’s hair.

Iwaizumi presses a kiss to the back of his nape, one hand clasped tightly in Oikawa’s while the other is fitted around his waist.

“Okay,” Oikawa laughs.

When he nods his head his hair brushes Iwaizumi’s face.

“I’ll buy you all the ramen you could ever want and we’ll stock up in instant noodle packages because you refuse to not eat those,” Iwaizumi continues. “Of course we can’t forget the onsen—there are a couple right up in the mountains.”

“Iwa-chan’s being all mushy now because he feels bad,” Oikawa sighs affectionately.

“Am not,” Iwaizumi laughs.

He wants to do all these things for Oikawa— _with_  Oikawa.

“I know,” Oikawa concedes.

He’s still hesitant but Iwaizumi’s glad to see some of his teasing nature is back, even if it’s mild at best.

Oikawa’s not himself when he becomes reserved and timid. Iwaizumi likes seeing him worked up and full of spirit, willing to go head-to-head with Iwaizumi in a way no one’s tried to before. His lack of care for other people’s opinion makes him such a strong character and Iwaizumi certainly admires that about Oikawa.

“Let’s go inside and I’ll get you some water,” Iwaizumi offers.

“No, I’m comfortable here,” Oikawa says.

He leans back against Iwaizumi’s chest, his back flat against Iwaizumi’s front. Iwaizumi moves his head to the side so he can fit it in the crook of Oikawa’s shoulder.

Iwaizumi’s perfectly happy to distract Oikawa with plans for their five-day holiday and after a while, Oikawa chips in, either telling him that his ideas are stupid or agreeing wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t know how long they stay out there for but at some point, the conversation lulls to a natural stop and when Iwaizumi comes to, Oikawa’s passed out against him. He tries his best not to wake the sleeping man while he carries him to their bed.

As Iwaizumi falls asleep, Oikawa’s body curled into his, he realizes that there’s a lot about Oikawa he doesn’t know but he wants to. He’s never thought their relationship was superficial and Oikawa’s admission, albeit brief, of his family’s past life gives Iwaizumi hope that Oikawa feels the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are probably going to be wrapping up soon, but there's still some things that need to be resolved/spoken about so not _too_ soon. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Also, preview to next chapter but some of those unused nsfw tags are gonna kick in aka it’s gonna be my fav chapter ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn y'all, thanks for the almost 900 kudos, I'm seriously floored! I didn't expect this much support but I am so so grateful for it all the same <3

Spending time with Iwaizumi is nice. Spending time  _alone_  with Iwaizumi on vacation is even nicer. He’s been sweet and adventurous all through their trip, allowing Oikawa to pull them towards activities he’d normally be reluctant to try just because Oikawa wanted to.

In Iwaizumi’s defence, Oikawa thinks he’s always sweet—he’s just not as vocal about it. While actions do speak louder than words, over the past five days, his actions have been followed-up with kind comments and more praises than Oikawa could even think to ask for.

Oikawa knows a part of it has to do with what happened a few nights ago. Two beers weren’t going to make him pass out but since Oikawa hadn’t had any alcohol to drink in a long time, they certainly made him more liberal with his information.

He doesn’t regret telling Iwaizumi a small part of his past. Aside from Iwaizumi’s obvious efforts to remedy the little mishap with Oikawa, his laptop, and the wedding photos, Oikawa’s admission of why it’s been so long since his last vacation has made Iwaizumi complacent.

It’s adorable in a way to see him so careful and attentive while on vacation. He’s got nowhere to place his attention  _but_  on Oikawa and while the thought is a little intimidating, the action just makes Oikawa feel warm.

Before their vacation, Oikawa didn’t truly mind it when Iwaizumi was aloof; he’s the head of a major company and has a job that spans more than the usual business hours, after all.

But it is nice to see Iwaizumi relax and engage with him. Oikawa thinks he’s been spoiled over the past few days with Iwaizumi’s unwavering attention on him. Things are going well and Oikawa thinks that when they go back to Tokyo he’ll be able to think of Hokkaido in an unclouded light. He has nice,  _newer_  memories to remind him of the place now.

Though Oikawa supposes not all vacations are perfect, or  _only_  vacations when you’re as important of a man as Iwaizumi.

He’s been discreet about his work calls over the course of the past few days. Whenever Iwaizumi excuses himself to go to the bathroom or when Iwaizumi doubles back to their hotel room after they’re already in the lobby because he ‘may not have turned all the lights off’ Oikawa knows he’s been taking calls for work.

But he’s overlooked them because it’s not like they’ve put a damper on their vacation.

Today is their last night in Sapporo and they were  _supposed_  to have a dinner at an ocean resort then come back to their hotel room for sex but only half of that came true.

It’s been an hour since they returned to the hotel and Iwaizumi was barely able to keep his hands off Oikawa at first, but then his phone rang and ruined everything.

Oikawa figured Iwaizumi would ignore it but when he noticed it was Kuroo, he didn’t and when he retreated to the living room, leaving Oikawa alone in the bedroom, Oikawa figured he’d be away for ten minutes—fifteen,  _tops_ —but he was wrong there too.

One hour later and he can still hear Iwaizumi talking loudly on the phone. His voice is alternating between angry and serious, which doesn’t make for a good combination. A part of Oikawa is curious to know what’s gotten Iwaizumi so worked up but another part is just impatient.

Normally, Oikawa would be concerned but he’s starting to feel jilted because he dressed up and he’s been forgotten for  _work_.

The dinner was amazing. Iwaizumi managed to get a private room for them so they could hold hands over the table and not have to worry about prying eyes. There was a single square table with a delicately crafted chandelier hanging on top the ceiling. The rest of the room was bare but nothing else was really necessary with the view of the Pacific ocean and the mountain range to keep their eyes occupied.

Hokkaido’s cuisine spoiled him up until that night but their dinner was something else. Iwaizumi hadn’t missed anything, from king crabs to sea chestnuts. Oikawa didn’t even know what some of the seafood was but he enjoyed every bit of it.

Aside from the obvious ocean view that was a treat, seeing Iwaizumi dressed up in a fitted white button up and dark grey slacks was something else. He always looked good, his suits tailored perfectly. But there was something charming about the fact that Iwaizumi dressed up for him—made an effort  _for him_.

It was such a good lead up to the promise of an even better night but now that they’re back, Oikawa’s not sure the rest of their plans will follow through.

At first when Iwaizumi got delayed, Oikawa took the opportunity as a good sign. While Iwaizumi was out in the living room, he took off his clothes and fixed the babydoll he was wearing underneath.

Since Iwaizumi liked it so much the last time he wore lingerie, Oikawa figured he could surprise him again with something new. Ending their vacation with a bang sounded like a good idea.

But now he’s been rolling around in the king-sized bed in nothing but a white thong, and a sheer, white babydoll that leaves his entire torso exposed and he’s frankly more annoyed than he is turned on. He thought about fingering himself open but Iwaizumi’s so much better at it than he is and truthfully, Oikawa’s just being stubborn.

He briefly wonders if he should go out into the living room to let Iwaizumi know he’s been waiting for an hour now but as frustrated as he is, Oikawa knows Iwaizumi would only put him off like this if it was an absolute emergency.

The longer he waits though, the more his patience wears thin. The TV isn’t playing anything interesting—Oikawa already flipped through all the channels— and if Oikawa wants food, he has to go past the living room to get it.

He remembers that Iwaizumi still has his PSP, which is the only thing that sounds intriguing right about now. His phone games just aren’t cutting it and Akaashi’s on a date with Bokuto so he can’t even count on his friend to distract him.

The only problem now is that he doesn’t know where it is. Their luggage is in the room and Oikawa  _could_  go through it if he wants. He just doesn’t know if he should.

_“For fuck’s sake, Kuroo, I can’t just do that!”_

Iwaizumi’s harsh words make up Oikawa’s mind for him. It doesn’t sound like he’ll be done anytime soon and Oikawa’s tired of waiting around.

He climbs off the bed and places Iwaizumi’s suitcase on the ground. The small lock hangs off of it unlocked, which makes Oikawa feel less like an intruder.

There are the normal items in there: shirts, pants, an extra pair of shoes, personal hygiene products. Oikawa snorts when he sees a brand new box of condoms that remains unused and a bottle of vanilla-flavoured lube. He wouldn’t mind if Iwaizumi wanted to eat him out again but Oikawa puts that thought away for the time being because it just makes him annoyed to think about what they  _could_  be doing right now.

Among all of Iwaizumi’s things, Oikawa can’t find his PSP. What the hell did he do with it anyway?

He searches for fifteen minutes, trying to be as neat as possible about moving Iwaizumi’s things around too much because he knows how much Iwaizumi hates disorder. Oikawa has a feeling that the only reason he lets Oikawa throw his school stuff around his penthouse is because Iwaizumi has staff to clean up after him.

“What are you doing?”

Oikawa freezes; there’s no time to think about where his game might be anymore because Iwaizumi’s standing at the door looking thoroughly unimpressed. Oikawa has a feeling a lot of it has to do with his earlier phone call but his eyes do flit between Oikawa and his open suitcase, which causes his lips to twitch, and not in a pleasant way.

The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are undone, his collar pulled to the side haphazardly to reveal a tease of his collarbone underneath.

He looks hot like this but he also looks pissed, which is twenty percent frightening and eighty percent turning Oikawa on.

“I was looking for my PSP,” Oikawa admits, standing up off the ground.

He smooths down the fringe of the lingerie, resisting the urge to cover himself up. He can’t even be fully embarrassed by the fact that he’s wearing practically nothing when Iwaizumi’s so serious.

“By going through my things?”  Iwaizumi asks flatly.

Oikawa flushes pink. When he puts it like that it makes Oikawa feel like he’s done something wrong. He supposes going through someone else’s belongings without their permission  _is_  wrong but Iwaizumi took his game console, so technically he started it.

“Oh come on Iwa-chan, what are you trying to hide? You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Oikawa teases lightly.

Unfortunately, Iwaizumi doesn’t take the bait, pressing on with his earlier interrogation.

“And how do you expect me to get that past airport security?” he deadpans.

Oikawa notes that he doesn’t deny the accusation that he  _does_  own a gun.

“It’s not fair,” Oikawa complains, “you were on the phone for over an hour and I was bored. I dressed up for you and everything,” he says, gesturing to his outfit. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes rake over his body. Oikawa wanted Iwaizumi to appreciate the effort he put in but now that he’s gazing at him resolutely, Oikawa’s not sure what to do with the hungry look he gets in response.

Slowly, Iwaizumi closes the door behind him, tosses his phone on the nightstand and stands in front of Oikawa to get a better look at him.

“First my laptop, now my luggage,” Iwaizumi chides. “Don’t you know it’s a bad habit to touch things that aren’t yours?” he asks.

His tone is half endearing, half mocking and Oikawa’s not sure what’s happening anymore.

“You know that’s not fair. The laptop was an accident…” Oikawa frowns.

“Everything’s not fair with you,” Iwaizumi scolds. “Are you going to stop going through things that aren’t yours or do you think you need a lesson?” he asks.

Iwaizumi runs his hand over the length of Oikawa’s bare arm, green eyes almost black as they lock in on Oikawa’s.

Oikawa shivers from the touch even though it’s light and Iwaizumi’s hands are hot against him.

“Come on baby, what do you want? The decision is yours,” Iwaizumi reminds when Oikawa remains silent.

“I… I want you to spank me, teach me a lesson,” Oikawa says quietly.

His words are rushed but Iwaizumi takes his time, barely acknowledging the comment. For a moment, Oikawa fears he’ll have to repeat himself but then Iwaizumi’s hand moves from his arm to his face, cupping his jaw in a firm embrace.

He tugs Oikawa forward and crashes their lips together. His free hand slides under the sheer babydoll to cup at his growing erection. Iwaizumi wastes no time in prying Oikawa’s mouth open, but he also doesn’t stop rubbing at Oikawa’s front until there’s a wet patch that seeps through the white fabric of his thong.

Iwaizumi’s tongue carves over the roof of Oikawa’s mouth, licks and sucks at Oikawa’s own tongue. His hands find Oikawa’s, urging him forward so he can align their hips.

Oikawa kisses him fervently, matching Iwaizumi’s desire tenfold. He’s gasping for air, face flushed when Iwaizumi finally pulls away from his mouth but Iwaizumi’s lips don’t take a break while Oikawa tries to catch his breath.

He leaves a trail of bites and bruises in his wake, covering Oikawa’s neck and chest in the show of affection. Oikawa can barely keep himself standing up as he does. His legs are numb and most of his weight is already on Iwaizumi, but Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to mind; he wraps an arm tight around Oikawa’s waist to keep him upright, his hips grinding against Oikawa to replace where his hand just was.

Oikawa’s so hard from just a little kissing and Iwaizumi’s teasing clothed thrusts. He thinks he may cum in his pants and as embarrassing of a thought that is, it also makes him feel good— _Iwaizumi_  makes him feel good.

The small whimpers Oikawa is involuntarily letting out are starting to turn desperate. His hands claw at Iwaizumi’s back, tug at his hair. It prompts Iwaizumi to take a step back and stop the rush of heat for just a moment.

“Bend over the bed, baby,” Iwaizumi says, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder gently.

Oikawa shivers at how rough his voice sounds—scratchy and throaty all from kissing. He can’t believe how turned on he is by Iwaizumi’s voice but he also can’t believe how turned on Iwaizumi is from the sight of  _him_.

He slowly walks over to the bed and leans across it on his elbows so his ass is in the air.

“Good boy,” Iwaizumi praises.

It’s embarrassing to admit how much Oikawa likes it when Iwaizumi calls him that.

His hands come up to caress Oikawa’s behind taking an asscheek in each hand. He squeezes the flesh gently between his fingers as his body leans over Oikawa’s. He kisses up Oikawa’s neck while his hands play with his ass, kneading it in his large palms.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says gently, breaking Oikawa out of his trance, “you know what to say when it’s too much, yeah?” he asks.

Oikawa’s mind works sluggishly but he nods. They have safe words and Iwaizumi’s careful to prompt Oikawa whenever he feels it’s getting too much. Right now, Oikawa can barely think about it though.

Iwaizumi places a tender kiss on his shoulder and moves away, the warmth of his front against Oikawa’s back completely gone.

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Oikawa complains.

Iwaizumi meets his whine with a hard slap over his ass that jarrs Oikawa for a second because he certainly wasn’t expecting Iwaizumi to start so soon.

“Are you going to whine again?” Iwaizumi asks.

“N-no,” Oikawa shakes his head.

“That’s my good boy,” Iwaizumi agrees. He rubs Oikawa’s behind to soothe the sting, but only briefly. “How many slaps do you think you need to learn your lesson?” Iwaizumi asks.

He slides a finger between the crack of Oikawa’s ass and runs it along the cleft playfully. Oikawa’s completely dry so Iwaizumi doesn’t push his finger inside but he does tease his entrance by circling the rim.

When he doesn’t do anything else—say anything else—Oikawa realizes he’s waiting for a legitimate response, but Oikawa doesn’t have one.

“I… I don’t know,” Oikawa admits unsurely.

Iwaizumi hums disapprovingly. He slaps Oikawa’s ass again, just as hard as the first time. Oikawa almost complains aloud before he remembers what Iwaizumi said and clamps his mouth shut.

“You’ve got to do as you’re asked, baby, and that includes answering questions. It’s why we’re here, right?” Oikawa nods hesitantly. “How many slaps do you think you’ll need to learn your lesson?” Iwaizumi repeats.

Oikawa settles for a good, even ten. Iwaizumi contemplates the answer for a few moments before he agrees. He pushes the babydoll up Oikawa’s back, hand smoothing over his spine. It tickles but Oikawa’s almost afraid to move, turned on from the thought of what Iwaizumi might do if he  _does_.

Iwaizumi leaves the thong on—it doesn’t cover his ass, anyway. But the restriction from the tiny bit of cloth that covers Oikawa’s dick is starting to become uncomfortable and Iwaizumi hasn’t really even started yet.

“Count for me, okay?” he asks.

Oikawa nods. “Okay.”

He’s barely managed to swallow the lump in his throat when a loud  _crack_  echoes around the room. Oikawa’s rocked forward from the sheer strength of Iwaizumi’s hand. If he thought it hurt before he’s not sure what to call this. His ass stings and his heart’s beating fast but Iwaizumi’s silent.

“One!” Oikawa shouts belatedly.

Iwaizumi thankfully doesn’t comment, only rubs his hand over Oikawa’s behind. It’s sore and he flinches at the touch but it also feels good so he wiggles his hips and encourages Iwaizumi to do it again.

“Two! Three!”

Oikawa barely has the time to breathe between the next two hits, just as hard but coming in faster. He regrets saying anything more than five because he’s not sure he can handle the power of Iwaizumi’s arms but Oikawa’s never been a quitter.

“ _Four_ ,” he moans, feeling his ass jiggle from the contact.

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to sit for an hour and half tomorrow on their way home.

Iwaizumi isn’t going easy on him and he doesn’t let up. He alternates between hitting Oikawa in quick succession and taking his time, kneading Oikawa’s ass until it’s tender and pliant. Oikawa’s not sure which he prefers. They both hurt and they both feel  _so good_.

By the time Iwaizumi gets to nine, Oikawa’s lying flat on the bed. His arms have given out and now only his ass remains sticking out, helped on by Iwaizumi’s arm around his waist.

He can feel Iwaizumi’s erection rub up his thigh. God, he just wants to feel it inside him but they’re not there yet.

“Iwa-chan, I can’t,” Oikawa whimpers despite himself.

“Can’t what?” Iwaizumi asks.

He uses the break in the spanking to lift up and grind himself against Oikawa’s ass. It’s red and raw, and the feel of Iwaizumi’s slacks irritates it more.

“It’s too much, Iwa-chan, I want to cum,” Oikawa admits.

The front of his thong is completely soaked, the pre-cum seeping through and making the bed sheets beneath him wet too.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yes!” Oikawa nods fervently.

He’s crying now, the tears leaking down his face and onto the bed. He doesn’t even care about wiping them away; he just wants Iwaizumi to help him cum.

“You want me to fill you up? Shoot my cum inside and leave it in? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want to feel full until there’s nowhere left to fill,” Iwaizumi says, using his hands to pull Oikawa’s ass cheeks apart.

“Yes,  _yes_ ,” Oikawa blubbers on.

He tries to grind against the mattress but Iwaizumi’s quick to put a stop to that, pulling him up by the hips so his ass is pressed to Iwaizumi’s front.

“Then be a good boy and count to ten and we’ll see what I’ll do about it,” he says, roughly throwing Oikawa down against the bed once more.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give Oikawa any room to adjust, hand coming down hard.

“Ten!” Oikawa screams out.

He’s not sure if Iwaizumi’s been saving his strength for this moment or if Oikawa’s own resolve is gone after being spanked so many times but the last one hurts the most. He’s not sure he can hold it in and when he comes to, he realizes he’s cum untouched.

“Iwa-chan… Iwa-chan,  _please_ ,” Oikawa sighs deeply.

“Please, what?” Iwaizumi asks, turning Oikawa around on his back. “It looks like you didn’t need me to cum after all,” he smirks, pointing to Oikawa’s front.

His legs dangle off the side of the bed, Iwaizumi hovering over him and still fully clothed. He feels exposed like this but Iwaizumi’s looking at him with so much desire it makes Oikawa feel sort of powerful, even if he’s naked and crying.

Oikawa shakes his head, desperate for more. “No, please, I need you—I  _want_  you.”

“Don’t move,” Iwaizumi warns.

Oikawa’s not sure he can even if he wanted to. Iwaizumi takes off his clothes and pulls out the unopened bottle of lube Oikawa found in his suitcase.

He squeezes it onto his palm and uses two fingers to swipe it up before he brings it to Oikawa’s hole. He slips both fingers in and it’s definitely a tight fit but Oikawa’s relaxed and overworked so he loosens up easily. Especially when Iwaizumi brings his mouth down to suck at Oikawa’s rim while his fingers work inside.

“I wish you could see what you look like right now,” Iwaizumi groans as he stands up. “All pretty and fucked out even before I’ve had the chance to fuck you.”

Oikawa whimpers at the comment, face burning.

“You think you can cum untouched again?” Iwaizumi asks, moving the string of the thong aside.

He rubs his cockhead around Oikawa’s rim, tracing the puckered hole. Oikawa wants to feel him  _inside_ but Iwaizumi’s having a hard time giving up the teasing. 

“I bet you could,” Iwaizumi answers for him when Oikawa remains silent. “So hungry for my cock. You’ll take what you can get and be so grateful too, won’t you, baby?” Iwaizumi asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Oikawa nods quickly. “Only for Iwa-chan. Please, just fuck me, use me—”

Oikawa cries out when Iwaizumi slams inside suddenly. He grips at Iwaizumi’s arms, forcing him to bend forwards and deepen the angle.

It’s too much— too sudden—but Iwaizumi is finally inside him and fills him up so well that Oikawa wants more. He grinds up against Iwaizumi every time Iwaizumi thrusts down.

His pelvis slaps against Oikawa’s hips, his hands in Oikawa’s hair, playing with his nipples, sliding down his hips just close enough to touch his cock but not quite. It’s protruding from the side of the white fabric covering his front, head red and shiny from the way he’s continuously leaking.

Iwaizumi swipes over his head briefly but he takes his hand away just as quick.

“Be a good boy and tighten up,” Iwaizumi says, tapping the side of his hips.

Oikawa clenches around him accordingly.

“Yeah, just like that,” Iwaizumi grunts, pistoning his hips faster. “I’ll give you what you want, I’ll fuck you so well you won’t want anyone else,” he promises.

“Only Iwa-chan,” Oikawa agrees. “Only Iwa-chan’s cock can fill me up and make me feel good,” he cries.

With his ass tight and Iwaizumi’s fat cock reaching deep inside him, Oikawa feels so full. He’s not sure anyone else  _can_  satisfy him when he’s gotten so used to Iwaizumi. He doesn’t want to know anything else now though.

“I’ll make you cum again,” Iwaizumi promises. “Want to be buried in your tight little ass forever,” he grunts, reaching his orgasm.

Oikawa’s back arches from the rush of heat that suddenly fills up him up, his own cock throbbing. Iwaizumi strokes Oikawa to his own release all the while he spills his cum inside Oikawa, riding out his orgasm.

Just when Oikawa thinks he’s done, he notices Iwaizumi’s still hard inside him. He continues grinding in Oikawa’s ass, his cum making the slide easier.

“Iwa-chan, pull out,” Oikawa whines. “It’s too much.”

But Iwaizumi has other plans. His thumb and forefinger find Oikawa’s rim and hold it open while he continues to fuck Oikawa.

“Fuck, you’re so hot and wet,” Iwaizumi curses, moving faster.

Oikawa’s overstimulated and it doesn't take long for him to orgasm dry, sobbing while Iwaizumi fucks him through it. He can’t move at all after that, and when Iwaizumi cums again he has to hold Oikawa’s legs together to make him tight while he blows his load into Oikawa’s ass for the second time.

When he finally pulls out, Iwaizumi’s cum starts to drip down Oikawa’s thighs and pools on the carpeted floor.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Iwaizumi sighs, pressing kisses across Oikawa’s cheeks and nose. “Are you okay?” he asks when Oikawa’s slow to respond.

“Hnngh,” Oikawa shakes his head. “My ass is sore both inside and out but I’m okay,” he nods.

“I’ll help you with that,” Iwaizumi laughs.

He looks relieved to know Oikawa is fine and the gesture brings a smile to Oikawa’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi apologizes.

“For what?” Oikawa hums.

“For making you wait,” he says honestly. “You look good,” he adds.

Oikawa chuckles at his belated response and Iwaizumi grins too when he sees Oikawa’s amusement. He bends down and places a proper kiss to Oikawa’s lips. It’s soft and passionate, full of affection.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was sore but for a few moments he’s content to indulge Iwaizumi in his tender show of care.

When Iwaizumi helps him clean up, gives him a bath and rubs lotion on his ass to soothe the aching muscles, Oikawa thinks that things worked out well tonight after all.

“Is everything okay?” Oikawa asks.

He folds his arms on the bed and rests his head on them, legs extended outwards. Iwaizumi sits a little further down next to him as he massages Oikawa’s behind.

Oikawa feels much better now that he’s warm and sated both from the sex and the bath that came after it. The bathrobe that came with the suite is smooth—probably satin—and while it doesn’t cover much, it does make him feel important. He jokingly asked Iwaizumi if he could take it back with him, to which Iwaizumi responded that he’d get him a newer one. Oikawa still can’t believe his jokes are taken so seriously.

“You’re asking  _me_  that?” Iwaizumi chuckles.

For someone who can be so rough when he wants to be, Iwaizumi’s hands are surprisingly gentle as they try to take away the sting. Oikawa supposes it’s only fair considering Iwaizumi’s hands are most definitely responsible for the marks on his ass right now.

“I mean about earlier,” Oikawa clarifies, eyes closed. “You sounded pretty heated on the phone.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, after a few moments of silence.

His tone isn’t quite as assertive as it usually is.

“You can tell me if something is wrong,” Oikawa prompts.

He feels self-conscious the moment the words are out of his mouth but Iwaizumi’s quick to appease him.

“I know,” Iwaizumi promises, pressing a kiss to Oikawa’s shoulder blade.

Oikawa feels like there’s more there than Iwaizumi’s letting on but he hopes that Iwaizumi’s learned his lesson from the last time he hid a big secret from Oikawa. After all, he’s successful and not someone who makes many mistakes so Oikawa’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume this doesn’t have anything to do with him.

They go back to Tokyo tomorrow and Oikawa starts school two days after that but he’s not going to let a little uncertainty taint the new memories he’s made. He’s got the whole trip to renew his love for Hokkaido and for now, he’s got Iwaizumi next to him to make his night.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is now completed in terms of me writing it. There are 3 more chapters to go, one of which is an epilogue so I hope you enjoy the ride that's to come ✌️


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